Paul Ardenheim, the Monk of Wissahikon

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PAUL AKDENHEIM,

THE MONK OF WISSAH1K0N.

BY GEORGE LIPPAKD. AUTHOR OF " THE QUAKER CITY, " ROSE OF EPHRATA, " WASHINGTON AND HIS GENERALS, OR LEGENDS OF THE REVOLUTION," "LEGENDS OF MEXICO," "ELANCHE OF BRANDYWINE," "LADYE ANNABEL," " ROSE OF WISSAHIKON," " THE NAZARENE, OR LAST OF THE WASHINGTONS," " HERBERT TRACY," &C., &C.

"These Legend9 of the olden time, have for the heart, a voice as stern and beautiful, as the sad tones from the lips of the dying. It is true, they were very superstitious, these early settlers of Pennsylvania— believed somewhat fervently in astrology, magic, witchcraft,— were imbued with all the mysticism of their Fatherland— and yet with it alJ, they had an unyielding hope in Man, a childlike faith in God." Mss. Memoirs of the Revolution

T. B.

PETERSON,

No. 98

CHESNUT STREET,

ONE DOOR ABOVE THIRD.

Entered according

to the

Act of Congress, in the year 1848, by

T. B. in-

PETERSON,

the office of the Clerk of the District Court for the Eastern District

of Pennsylvania.

Stereotyped by R. P. Mogridge.

TO MY SISTER,

HARRIET NEWELL LIBPARD. With

hope that some portion of the purity and truth of your nature,

the

found embodied in these pages, in the character of Catharine Ardenheim, this

book

to you.

I

might inscribe upon

this

I

may

be

dedicate

page some name indicative of worldly

no power beneath Heaven like that which derives its impulses from a Sister's Counsels there is no wealth than can compare for a moment, with the priceless treasure of a Sister's Love. power, and worldly wealth, but there

is

—

When

your eye for the

I

—

when you discover that have written your name at the head of

time rests upon this page

first

without your permission or knowledge,

—

I beseech to regard the act as a word of blessing from a Brother to a Regard it thus, and at the same time accept it as a memorial of the years of Orphanage we have spent together. It is true, that with but a few exceptions, the name we bear, is only borne by those who sleep their last in the silence of the grave. I write your dame, here upon my book and ask you to remember the days when all was dark with me when my name was uttered with the hiss of calumniation, and my life poisoned by every slander that malice could invent, or

these lines Sister.

—

—

— ;

falsehood enunciate .vas

my

friend

;

but,

when my

by me, with the counsels of a " Brother God-speed !"

—

more than a Child in years, had on the earth of God when she stood Love, and said in face of cloud and danger

Sister, scarcely

— almost the only friend Sister's

—

I

!

GEORGE LIPPARD.

PROLOGUE. The

author was aided in the preparation of this work,

papers, letters, and other

MSS.

relating to the events

by a

and

series of

men

of our

Revolution, and especially to certain incidents, connected with the Wissahikon, near Philadelphia.

The

incidents detailed in the

remarkable and various character

;

home-life, the battles, and superstitions of olden time. the

MSS. were

latable, at least,

most

MSS. were

of a

presenting at one view, a picture of the

Some

portions of

written in a cipher, not only difficult, but utterly untrans-

without a key.

As

the pages in cipher occurred in the

interesting points of the narrative,

picture not only events

and seemed from the context

which took place

in '75, '77

to

and '78 on the Wis-

sahikon, but also events of other lands, and of distant centuries, the author was exceedingly anxious to discover the key to this secret writing. The

3

—

PROLOGUE.

4

reader will appreciate the difficulty untranslatable Cipher

At

first sight, this

or,

:

when he

beholds a specimen of the

perhaps, Cryptograph would be a better word.

of course, looked like nothing but a scrawl, without

object or meaning, but as entire pages were written in the

seemed

as there

to

the lines and their angles,

exertions

made key

construct a

to

same manner

be something like system, in the very irregularity of

—

curiosity

was

excited,

and the most strenuous

some

particular part, and thus

discover the meaning of

for the

whole.

After

much

effort, the

—

characters given

above were discovered to represent the word " Mount Sepulchre." The translation of the Cipher was then accomplished without much diffi-

which the word " Mount Sepulchre" occured was and the author discovered that it was a quotation from first translated some unknown Manuscript, entitled " the Manuscript of the Sealed Chamber," written by a Monk, in the Reign of the Eighth Henry, and

cult

.

The passage

in

;

connected with the events of the Wissahikon, by a thread of peculiar

and

important incidents.

The follows

first :

passage

translated

from

the

Cipher was

in substance

as

PROLOGUE.

5

" In order that these things which appear

to

you so

strange,

may

be in

some measure accounted for, I subjoin a passage from the Manuscript or the Sealed Chamber (written as you know in the reign of Henry VIII., by Prior Eustace) which connects the incidents of the present history, with an almost incredible tragedy, which happened more than two hundred years ago."

Then followed which

is

the passage from

the Spirit of the Original

MSS.

Sealed Chamber,

of the

You cannot

etc.

although

preserved.

is

" i*.

the

subjoined with some modifications of style, language,

MOUNT SEPULCHRE."

picture to yourself a nobler image of Feudal grandeur, than

which was embodied in the Castle of Mount Sepulchre. (Even I that write these words, Father Eustace' once, and

that

'

now

the Monastery,' near the Castle, but that

know

4

Prior of

plain Eustace Brynne, even

I,

so well the terrible deeds enacted in the Castle, can scarce

believe that a scene so fair to the eye,

was ever made

the theatre of such

unnatural crimes.)

The shire,

traveller

who might chance

to

journey through the woods of York-

suddenly emerged from the shadows, and stood upon a rock which

overhung a magnificent prospect of woods, and

hills,

and valleys, with

tranquil waters gleaming here and there, like the shattered fragments of a

great mirror framed in emerald.

And

in

the midst of this prospect, nay, in the very foreground, arose

the grand old castle of

A

Mount Sepulchre.

bosom of a forest. It was a woven branches shut out the sun, and invested the turf with a rich twilight shadow. It was a wide forest, and, yet standing upon the jutting rock, you might behold a wide expanse of green meadows, and luxuriant orchards, abrupt hills and vallies threaded by silver streams stretching beyond the limits of this forest to the far disThen, there were mansions too, breaking suddenly upon tant horizon. here a fortified grange standing amid oaken trees on the summit the sight massive

wide

hill

forest, full

rose suddenly from

the

of oaken trees, whose

—

of a gentle trees,

hill,

there

a farm-house, lifting

its

gray walls from orchard

and on the slope of some meadow dotted with sleek

cattle, the

sombre towers of a Monastery, rushed suddenly on the view. But, in the midst of this varied and beautiful prospect

which met the eye It

— arose the old

Castle of

stood alone on the summit of that broad

bosom of

the forest.

It

was

a

hill

strange structure

your sight massive walls, and lofty towers

;

—

the noblest thing

Mount Sepulchre. presenting at once

white, and gold floating into Heaven, and there a huge

gloomy parapet.

to

its

banner of

mass of dark stone

rose in the sunlight, with the green vines trailing about its

the

here a slender pillar like the

minaret of a Pagan Mosque, pierced the blue sky, with

flowers fluttering from

*

which arose from

its

windows, and

PROLOGUE.

6 In fact, the Castle of

Mount Sepulchre presented

at a glance, a gor-

geous combination of Gothic and Oriental Architecture.

upon

seemed Western world had met in

from the jutting crag,

it

ern and the

and reared

Many

this

though the

as

— when

was

the third Richard

East-

beautiful valley of England,

this

in the land

—

skill.

this Castle

image of dark stone, with four rude towers rising

a stern

heaven, and cell-like windows indenting the surface of

Then,

As you gazed

spirits of the

magnificent pile, as a trophy of their combined

ages ago

was only

it

its

sombre

into

walls.

a solid wall encircled the base of the hill, with a gate rising to

the west, and

beyond

wide and deep moat, seperated the

this wall a

hill

from the surrounding woods.

But the Lord of Mount Sepulchre followed King Richard, the Lion to the wars of Palestine, and were thousands only fought to win

Heart

a grave, he fought and

won more

fame, more

titles

and more gold.

Therefore returning from the holy wars, he added new lands

He hung

main of the Castle. glories of

Oriental architecture,

to the do-

gloomy walls the fantastic and between the sombre walls Pagan around

its

minarets arose, and where had been dark courts paved with unsightly

new gardens bloomed,

stone,

and foliage fluttering about the

their flowers

old castle, like rich drapery around a rugged warrior's breast.

This Lord of the day of Richard, the Lion- Heart, even changed the

name of

the castle

ancestors, but in

Tomb

the Sacred

And

so, as

:

it

had been called by the rude Gothic name of his

memory

of the

of Christ

— he called

you see

it

now

Holy it

the

in

—

perchance in memory of Mount Sepulchre. reign of Henry the Eighth, our wars,-

glorious King, he left the Castle to his heir, and lies buried in a Chapel

somewhere amid the mazes of yonder Castle, a Chapel which resembles a Pagan Mosque, with its mosaic pavement, its swelling dome, and quaintly fashioned lamps, even burning over altars of sculptured marble.

We

will stand

upon

this jutting rock,

Castle by the light of the It

summer

crowns the summit of the

and trace the features of

this

day.

hill,

with

its

towers and pillars gleaming

in the sun.

The

base of the

hill is still

encircled

adorned with towers, and two massive

mark

ing spires, t

Beyond

by

a

heavy

pillars

wall, but that wall

crowned by long and

is

taper-

the position of the castle gate.

which encircles a space of twenty acres or more, in hill, there is no longer an unsightly moat filled with stagnant water, but a stream of silver, which flows from the woods in the this wall,

fact, girdles

the entire

west, winds arounfl the wall like a belt of shining silver beside a belt of iron,

and then disappears

The base,

is

in the

woods toward

the east

space between the castle on top of the diversified with gardens, divided

hill,

by walks

and the wall

at its

fantastically arranged,

and adorned with shrubbery and flowers of almost every clime.

It

seems

PROLOGUE.

7

by some enchanter from the valley of down on English soil amid the scenes of Yorkshire. The Baron of Mount Sepulchre can gaze from the loftiest tower of

indeed, like a garden stolen

the

Arno, and set

his

Castle, and turn his eyes to the east, to the west, to the north, and to the

south, exclaiming as he turns,

For he

Henry

is

who

took to his arms a

New

bed a

—and

This

this

—

mine

is

Sovereign

our

!"

Lord,

the other day sat aside his Spanish Queen, and

New

Queen,

in the person of the witching

maiden j

be remembered that

It will

behold

all that I

a powerful lord, high in favor with

the Eighth,

Anne Boleyn. his

*«

Queen, he also took

at the

to his Altar a

now reigns at once Pope and many queens and religions as it

same

new

time, he took to

He

Religion.

set

aside the Pope, and

King, with the power

to set aside as

shall please his dread

Majesty.

The Lord Harry Mount Sepulchre powerful Lord, but he

is

of

Mount Sepulchre

young, gallant and

twenty-four years of age, with a form of iron and a

not only a

is

look upon.

fair to

fair face,

Only

shaded by

golden hair, he can wield a sword, back a steed, or win a peasant maid,,

with any Lord in Christendom.

He

is

the Last of his

he has taken no bride

Race

race, richer with the gifts

young heart with

—

the last of the

Mount Sepulchres, and

yet»

Rich with the possessions of his and favor of the King, he cares not to load his

to his lordly bed-

the chains of wedlock, or darken his

gay bachelor

life

with the frown of some jealous dame.

Would at the

I

might pierce the castle walls, and show him

head of the well-loaded board, goblet

some score of gay

in hand,

lords like himself echoing his

merry

to you as he sits with the faces of jests,

and copying

his courtly smiles.

He

and yet, his father the old Lord is not dead. gloomy tower, which seperates itself from the body of the castle, and mocks the glad summer with its sullen grandeur, sits an old man, very old, in faith, with the snows of ninety winters upon his white is

the last of his race,

In yonder

beard.

Many ness.

It

years ago he was stricken at once with palsy, and with blind-

was soon

after his eldest son, a dark-haired boy,

who

loved the

book better than the sword, and the air of the woods better than the perfumed atmosphere of the Count, left the Castle suddenly for other lands,

—

without once bidding Lord Hubert farewell.

For many years the old man awaited the return of his Son. He had now from Hungary, now from Italy, and again from Spain. But, the eldest son never returned. He was a wanderer upon the face of the earth the old Baron knew not

heard of him from various parts of Europe,

;

wherefore, but sat looking day after day from the tower of his castle, turning his eyes to every quarter of the horizon, in the hope to behold his returning Son.

— c

When Ranulph

" the

sway

of

Mount Sepulchre

of the Castle and

Ranulph was the name of

Long

man waited

the old

upon himself

returns, and takes

domains, then

its

I

can die in peace."

his dark-haired Son.

— not a day shone, but found him

in the

tower

But Ranulph never came. messenger with a letter, which enclosed a lock

waiting for his eldest born.

One day of hair.

knew in

was dark

The

ness.

came

there

It

a

Baron looked upon the lock of

old

that his eldest born

Florence

—

among

hair, with a thread of silver turned

was dead.

hair, read

Ranulph had been

its

black-

the letter

his ashes slept beside the Arno.

Blindness smote the old man's eyeballs, palsy withered his limbs sits

and

killed in a duel

even now, mourning

over his gaunt chest

— he

—he

in

the old tower, his white beard descending

sits

alone with his blindness, his disease and his

ninety years, while his gay Son, Lord Harry

Mount Sepulchre

holds high

festival in the great hall of the castle.

be remembered, that in consequence of the age, the blindness

It will

shall I

say idiocy

—of

all his

rights and

powers

Lord Harry had been invested with Supreme Lord of Mount Sepulchre, even before his father was dead. This had been done by our gracious Lord King Henry, who having power to set aside queens and religions at his the old Baron, as

oleasure, certainly has the right to invest an heir with all that pertains to

man

Lordship, even before the old

his father is gathered into the grave

vault.

And merry are his nights

are the days of the

anger of living

He

care

;

comes

man make

young Lord

riot to chill

in his castle,

and joyous

his ardent heart, neither can the

his soul afraid.

spends his days and nights bravely with his redoubted Twenty-

Four.

His redoubted Twenty-Four

!

Yes, for he hath gathered

from country and from Court, nay, even from lands

Twenty-Four noble Knights, who know no

altar

to

himself,

beyond the Sea,

but a well-filled table,

They share his gold, they partake of his pleasures when he wiles some buxom peasant maid with his dainty tongue they laugh, and when he points to them a man who hath done no God save a brimming Cup. ;

him wrong

A

— they

kill.

merry time they have

By day hounds

they hunt over ;

sure, that

together,

hill

and

at night the wine-cup

might

with mettled steeds and baying

and the board, with

suit the luxurious

not befit a page like mine to

Lord Harry and his Twenty-Four.

plain,

now and

then a plea-

gloom of an Eastern Seraglio, but does

tell.

Oftentimes at dead of night they issue forth from the castle gates,

mounted on

fiery steeds

and with torches

through the silent country, like so

The

many

in their hands,

go thundering

devils on devils' steeds.

peasant sleeping on his rude cot after the hard day's

toil, starts

up

'

PROLOGUE. sound of

at the

their

9

horses tramp, but ere he can look from his

window

Now

and then, a knight madder than the rest, flings his blazing torch into some farmer's hayrick, and the band go dashing and tramping on their way, by a light more vivid than the sun. Then, how their shouts echo through the woods as the hayrick fires the farmer's they are gone.

home, and forces the rude peasant and her bosom, from their slumbers

his

dame, with the

little

child

upon

!

merry band, Lord Harry and his brave Twenty-Four. wood, not far from the castle hill, stands a gloomy fabric, whose dismantled walls makes the wayfarer turn aside, even by the light of day, and grow cold with fear at dead of night. This deserted fabric was not long ago a Monastery tenanted by an idle •

O, they are in

faith, a

In the depths of the

swarm of monks and nuns, but, our Lord King Henry took a new wife, and a new Religion, and therefore our Lord Baron Harry went forth not long ago, near the break of day, and

and

story,

I

have not time

said they

It is

smoke and forth upon

to tell

it

but

'tis

a long

now.

had a merry time scourging the affrighted monks through

As

flame.

for the nuns,

some were

old,

and they turned them

Some were young and

fair to

look upon, and the brave Twenty-Four took them on their saddles

to the

and

castle, It

the night into the rude world.

made

a great stir

among

upon

their breasts

Some

the peasants of the Baron's domain.

affrighted ones with their garments torn,

were found,

and the marks of rude hands

after a lapse of three or four

days wander-

ing in the forests, startling the stillness with their ravings, and uttering the

name of Lord Harry coupled with

curses.

But they were nuns. It is

when

also said that the peasant talks in

low tones of

the

good old times,

old Baron Hubert held the sway, and his dark-eyed son

came kind-

ly to their cottages, and broke bread at their tables, yes, broke bread even

with these, the rude peasant people.

There is a prophecy among these base born folks, that one day Lord Ranulph will return and unseat his younger Brother from the saddle, and assume the rule of the broad domains of Mount Sepulchre. But 'tis only a vague superstition of these vassals,

who

are born for the

good pleasure

of such Lords as the brave Harry, and such Kings as the high and mighty

name, sovereign of England and France, DePope of the New Religion. low in the heaven. There are broad shadows over

Henry, the Eighth of

his

fender of the Faith and

The sun

is

getting

the distant fields, and the base of the castle hill

is

lost in twilight,

the pillars and towers far above, shine through the clear air like

while

columns

of living flame.

We

will descend

from

and enter the grand old

this jutting

castle of

rock which overlooks the prospect,

Mount Sepulchre.

PROLOGUE.

10

To

And sits

came

Italian

Lord Harry leaves the wine-cup to visit the old man, who in yonder tower, and from the old man's cell he

moaning

communion with

hold

to

since

'tis

to-night,

to

—

poor

—and

who

but a few days

tell

it.

'Tis said the

As

therefore a Sorcerer.

but our history will

said that

Little did

the dark-visaged Italian,

Mount-Sepulchre with his youthful page.

a Scholar

is

Twenty-Four hold

his bold

1

Hall of Palestine.

in the

blind and

goes

Harry and

night, at set of sun, the brave

high festival

for his page,

all.

they think, even Lord Harry, the Italian and the Page, that

which shone so brightly over Mount Sepulchre as it sunk below the horizon, would not rise again until the Three were linked together, in the sun

a

Crime

The

makes

that

the blood

festival begins

Thus

reads the

;

first

grow

chill but to

remember.

us enter the Castle gate.

let

MSS.

passage of the

in

The

of the Sealed Chamber.

reader will find the Sequel embodied in the pages of the present

work

;

connection with the events which took place on the Wissahikon, in the

years '75, '77 and '78.

It

will be seen that so far as

our history

is

con-

cerned, a chain of peculiar incidents connects our Revolution with the

Reign of Henry VIII,— the Wissahikon with the

hills

of Yorkshire.

With regard to "Paul Ardenheim, the Monk of Wissahikon," not a word more in the way of preface is necessary. The book is now before the reader stage of

;

its

it

has been with the author for years, always, and in every

progress, a book

That subject comprises

which he wrote from love of

the subject.

the lights and the shadows, the superstition and

the heroisms of our Past, and moreover covers ground hitherto untrodden the influence

which

the

German mind manifested

in the case of the

early settlers has exerted upon the history of Pennsylvania, and the cause

of

human

progress.

To

gentlemen of a

all

critical

ply necessary to say, that

World.

It is to

this

the

read a book, but simply

it is

Most Improbable Book

to

all

those gentlemen

misrepresent

to readers of a different

its

has been lingering about

kind

my

whose

object

contents, and bark at

—readers who

read a book with something of the spirit in which

A Dream

—

in

are

sim-

the

be hoped that this statement on the part of the author,

will be perfectly satisfactory, to

One word

is

who

turn,— especially gentlemen

witty in small papers, and profound in fashion-plate magazines

it

was

heart for years

is

never

its

to

author.

are willing to

written.

— a dream

whose

and shadows, strong contrasts and deep passions, I have found embodied, in actual form, in the rocks and hills, the streamlet and the gorge

lights

of Wissahikon. That Dream it " Paul Ardenheim."

I

Wissahikon Sep. 25, 1848.

have attempted

to

put on paper, and called

GEORGE LIPPARD.

BOOK THE FIRST.

THE LAST NIGHT. "I will send a Deliverer to this land of the New World, who shall save my peo; le from physical bondage, even as my. Son saved them from the bondage of spiritmi death.*'

(ii)

—

CHAPTER

FIRST.

THE WARNING.

Night came slowly down upon

the wintry scene, as the travellers,

narrow

the road, entered the

turning from

lane,

which

led

toward the

wood- hidden stream.

was a winter evening, sad and

It

beautiful as a pure angel, looking

from heaven upon the crimes and agonies of Man.

Do you behold the scene ? Come by this oaken tree, which stands beside intermingled timber and stone we will stand and

—

—

the rude fence, built of

gaze upon the valley,

bathed in the tender solemnity of winter twilight.

There

is

snow upon

these hills

The

shroud over the valley. gold

it

;

glows as with the

;

a white mantle glitters like a shining

western sky

last

one soft mass of purple and

is

impassioned kiss of day.

that sky, so pure, so transparent

and serene, the

And

up, into

leafless trees raise

their

dark branches.

Not a cloud

in

broken by a

dome, nothing

the

The very

blushing into gold.

slight breeze

— so keen, so

over the frozen snow, and hover near in the light of the

The

to

air is full

mar

that vast

bitter cold

it,

expanse of blue,

of rest, a deep repose, scarcely

as

it

— which seems

to

skim

scatters the shining particles

darkening day.

lane leads through the valley, winding along the ridge, above the

frozen streamlet in the east.

which towers

And above

that frozen streamlet,

on the

dark grey walls of a cluster of buildings, grow crimson in the flush of the western sky. Look upon them knoll

in the east, the

are they not beautiful

of

some

tering like

is

;

diamonds on

ears peeping from

This

A

?

leafless trees

the

its

rugged farm-house, seen through the branches

a mill, built of huge logs, with the icicles

motionless wheel

its

;

glit-

a corn-crib with the golden

snow-white bars.

view toward the

amid

east, but in the north, the

course of the

mass of rocks and woods. Do not turn your eye from these rocks and woods, nor pass them by as devoid 1 of interest, for they shelter the Wissahikon.

lane

is

lost to view,

They shroud from your

the dark

sight that stream,

which bears the name of

who

a

buried her love and her wrongs in its clear waters. By those strange waters we will discover the scenes the men and the women of this, our Solemn History.

love-maddened Indian

girl,

—

—

(13)

— PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

14

For

a solemn history, telling in every page of the strong agonies

it is

of love, fanaticism and madness

now

;

where a secret brotherhood celebrate

glow of an olden time

the cheerful

tory of

on

my own

this drear

fable

— no

winter night, to I

!

and passing again into

Think not

fire-side.

Think not

production.

solemn chambers,

gliding in the

their rites,

that I

that

have but

a his-

it is

sat

me down,

an idle romance, to coin a marvellous

tell

but write again the dark story which

is

—

many a dusky and blotted page dusky with age, and I am but the translator of that dread story, which in mystic ciphers, for seventy years.

It is

my

already written, on blotted with tears.

has been recorded

task to give the ciphers,

which look so unmeaning and sometimes appear so grotesque, the tongue and language of e very-day life. And when the shadows of this history gloom terribly before you, and its phantoms rouse wild and contending emotions in your hearts, and the words which fall from their weird lips, sound in

your ears

like the

you, the wizard

words of the dead, do not too harshly blame,

craft of the author,

who

has only invoked

I

beseech

—not created

these Ghosts of the Past.

Along

this valley, at the

hour of sunset, on the

our Lord, 1774, two travellers took their way.

last

As

day of the year of

their footsteps

broke

the frozen snow, their faces were bathed in the mild light of the winter

evening. It

needed no second glance

It is

true

tell

you the

you gained no knowledge of

They were

garb.

to

The youngest

relation

They were Master and

farers bore to each other.

attired alike in the

which these way-

Servant.

this fact,

from survey of their

costume of humble

toil.

of the two, not more than twenty years in age, was at

His step was firm and graceful

least six feet in stature.

;

his coarse garb

could not hide the muscular beauty of his chest, nor altogether

From

round proportions of his sinewy limbs.

waving masses of

was

light,

light

brown

veil the

his cap of coarse grey fur,

hair floated in the light.

His complexion

sanguine, almost florid, and his features firm and regular in

their well-defined outlines.

As he turned to the western sky, you might by the fading light. They were clear,

discern the colour of his eyes

large and brilliant, and in color, trembled between a deep azure and mid-

night black.

As he walked along

the narrow lane

cloth reaching to the knees

cast

its

The

distinct

shadow

far

—clad

and buttoned

in

a coat of coarse grey

to the throat

—

elder wayfarer presented a strange contrast to his

some companion,

or, to

his

manly

figure

over the mantle of glittering snow.

young and handThere was

speak more correctly, his .Master.

something intensely ludicrous in his look, his

gait, the outline

of his form,

the very twinkle of his small black eyes.

That

outline, described

on the frozen snow, was

in itself a grotesque

;

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON.

15

Imagine a round paunch, supported by long and spider-like legs arms whose excessive length is only matched by their intense want of high shoulders, surmounted by a small face, flesh hands huge and bony picture.

;

;

red as a cherry, round as an apple, with a wide mouth, small nose, and

diminutive eyes, shining like flame-sparks amid laughing wrinkles.

This was the servant, clad like

his master,

wearing the same garb, a fur

cap precisely similar, and yet presenting in every outline a contrast so

To

laughable.

of hair

to

complete the picture, you must not permit a single lock

wander from beneath

tightly over the forehead,

round

red,

No

that cap.

while beneath

it

—

The grey

!

fur

beacon

like a

is

drawn

— shines

the

face.

In the calm silence of that winter evening they journeyed on, their faces bathed in the

The

the snow.

same mellow

light, their

long shadows trembling over

red-faced servant beguiled the

way, with many singular

substitutes for conversation, but dared not speak.

bidden him

unclose his enormous mouth.

to

His master had

for-

Therefore, while the young

man, with a stout oaken staff in hand, strode steadily on, his eyes fixed upon the ground, a sombre thought stealing over his face the servant amused himself by a sort of dumb show, that gave a deeper grotesqueness to his round face and spider-like form. He walked like a man afflicted with a distressing lameness he inflated his round cheeks, until they seemed

—

;

ready

to burst

until his face

;

he rolled his eyes in their sockets, and distorted his mouth,

resembled a frog in the agonies of a galvanic spasm

last of all, placing

;

and

one hand on his hip, and twisting one leg into a ser-

pentine shape, he advanced with the graceful gait of a belated

Muscovy

young Master did not pay the least attention to his antics, nor suffer his eyes to wander to the ridiculous mimic who limped at his side. Presently they stand on the verge of yonder bridge of dark stone, which spans the narrow streamlet. Two roads meet beside the bridge one, the continuation of the lane, winds around yonder cluster of cottages duck.

Still

the

;

and

skirts the mill-dam,

which, framed in woods, sparkles before us.

The

other road, a narrow path, rough with deep ruts, and scarcely wide enough for the passage of little

two horses, when journeying

stone bridge, and

green pines. "

Which

silence,

road,

John

is

lost to

—"

view on yonder

abreast, leads over the

hill-top,

among

the ever-

said the servant, venturing at last to break the

and laying a strange emphasis on the Italicized word.

" Over the bridge, and

up among the pines.

It is

the nearest to the

farm-house."

They moment

crossed the bridge and rapidly approached the shadows.

In a

they will have passed from the soft glow of the twilight into

the darkness of the hill-side,

where the

pines, almost touching from either

and depending from the high banks, enclosed the road as in two high and almost contiguous walls.

side,

—

"

—"

"

PAUL ARDENHEIM OR,

16

;

"

We

are near the Wissahikon,

the

young master began.

you please," whispered the servant, with a peculiar contor" In Italy we were called Jacopo Jacopo, you remember Hang

"Jacopo, tion

— Jacob "

;

Jacob.

if

—

!

low, and smells like a greasy penny.

It's

Jacopo has a silvery

sound." "

We

What

?

Near

Wissahikon, Jacopo.

are near the

understand

course do you advise

the

In a few

?

farm-house— you moments we will

be there—"

The young man

hesitated, as though afraid to trust his voice with the

He

thought of his heart.

and seemed pines,

among

cast his eyes along the dark and

the silence and

to feel

shadow

narrow pass,

that brooded in those thick

In that gloom, even the cherry-ripe face

those grey rocks.

of Jacob, or Jacopo, as the reader pleases, grew sad, and his beacon-like

nose lost "

freshness.

its

What

course

Can

?

me

be possible that you ask

it

A

?

beautiful

pair of ankles, a fine bust, an eye like a star after a shower, and a cheek like a

—

its ripest side Bah What have month back? In Italy Corpo di Bacco ! " we managed these things much better

peach with the sun shining on

you been doing

—

(Fine oath that !) " Come to the point, Jacopo," and the master with his oaken " I'm

touched the servant

staff.

Give

coming.

month, wasting your time

The

!

for this

me

with

Some few

pass grew darker.

through an aperture

Here you have been

time.

in toying

among

this forest

for

a

when

damsel,

whole "

paces ahead, a belt of 'light broke

the trees, and

glowed brightly upon the summit

of a solitary rock. "

When ?"

echoed the young master, laying his hand upon his

ser-

vant's arm.

Jacopo halted

;

the strange

leer, half-comical, half-satanic

"

When

a

feiv

expression of his small black eye,

—were

visible

grains of white powder, quietly mixed in a cup of

wine, would do the work of a whole year of boyish courtship "

— that

even in the gloom.

What mean you

?"

The

voice of

—

John sounded deep and hollow

through the silence of the pass. " You remember Florence ? She was a proud lady You know how it happened, when we were in Pshaw !

this is but a

Peasant Girl

that

—but

Italy.

And

!"

These incoherent words and broken hints had a powerful effect upon young man. You see his nether lip move tremulously his bright eye grow brighter, his broad chest heave like a wave. " That was a proud lady, Jacopo, who first loved, then scorned me the

;

he gasped. " tone

4

"But Madeline

But Madeline,' " mimicked the servant, speaking

— " A peasant t

girl.

—

—

in a dolorous nasal

Lives on this out-of-the-way stream they

call

—

—

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. Wissahikon— or Wiskeysikeen

— or

girl in the

woods, and

you, Mister John

— spend our

meet the

little

that

is

we

should trap- the

Bah

little

We

We

visit

romance by

come from

the farm-house,

We

the dozen.

time, in saying soft nonsense,

We

I'm ashamed of you, John.

!

talk

and cage

bird,

17

some such name.

Philadelphia, disguised as a merchant's clerk.

it,

;

when

without a moment's delay.

managed these things much

better

in Italy."

As he spoke, back

started

a strange vision broke

— stood spell-bound with

glow of the winter's day. pines,

its

On

and uncouth

It

Was

figure.

a

man, or

the lonely

rose before them, a stunted figure, with arms folded over

hump

broad chest, an uncouth

rising

above

its

flaming coals, glared from

Two

waving hair above, and streaming beard below. The travellers saw those thin lips move, they those eyes, and between them

and the

eyes, bright

half-human visage, with

hideous,

that

its

shoulders, long hair and

beard, waving black and straight in the winter wind. as

it

them on the summit of

strange beast, perched before

?

the last the dark

crest shining like gold.

that crest arose a shapeless

some rock

stood alone, a bright thing

It

They

the wayfarers' eyes.

whose rugged brow broke among

the rock, over

They had reached

upon

involuntary terror.

felt

light, right

the vivid light of

across their path, a

long arm, with bony lingers, was extended. " Go back !" a voice was heard speaking through the intense silence

which had

—last man from

fallen

the pass

of an illustrious

this soil.

again.

upon

There

Back, is

— " Go

race— I

I say,

back

!

Heir of a noble house

stand in your path, and

and never

let

warn ye back

your footsteps press

this

sod

danger for you here.

death and judgment

to

your race.

That word Wissahikon means Even now, in England your father

—^ind here you come to plot the ruin woman, and grasp your death over her dishonored corse !" The echo of that hollow voice died away the travellers looked up the rock was there, glowing in the light, but the uncouth shape had van-

prays for the safe return of his son of an innocent

;

ished like a dream. It is

plainly to be seen, even through the gathering

side pass, that these

peared for a

moment

gloom of the

hill-

words of omen, uttered by the "apparition, which aponly, on the crest of the rock, had their

own

effect

— strange and deadening—upon the minds of the wayfarers. Jacopo sank on his knees, and began to pray in four or five languages. Having exhausted the calendar of Catholic saints, implored the assistance of Martin Luther, and other reformers, he concluded with the emphatic ejaculation

" Devil help

John

me

!

We

tottered forward,

didn't see

any thing

like this in Italy !"

and leaned against the rock, while the cold dew

stood on hi» forehead.

2

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

13

" Here

it

— " he madly pressed horrible phantom " — hands " Here — and warned me back

stood— that

rock with his

The words

Something there was

died on his lips.

night of that forest to impress his heart with it,

distinctly pictured in the twilight air, that

awe

the cold

in the gathering

saw phantom of a deformed man, ;

but even yet, he

human being, the cold lustrous eyes of a fiend. Come, Jacopo," he faltered, " we will go back This is an unholy Do you not see, that the very Devil warns us to adventure. Up, man with the face of a "

!

!

retrace our steps !"

Jacopo, still on his knees, glanced about him, with a nervous fear. " Let us forward to the farm-house. The night is cold as Iceland, and "

Come, my

we'll freeze to death.

" Fool

Dare you breathe

!

commanded you

lord

that

in

title

Remember, knave

?

—

woods

these

Have

?

I

not

he finished the sentence by a

hearty admonition, administered on the cheek, with the palm of his hand.

Then,

as

if

ashamed of his recent emotion, he

I

am

led the

way

through the

darkness "

Come

!

Followed by

going

over the snow, and

farm-house.

to the

trembling

his

among

servant, the

Madeline awaits me

young man urged

!"

way

his

the withered leaves, while above, the thickly

clustering pines extended their canopy, blacker than the midnight with-

out a

star.

Soon emerging from the shadows, they stood upon the verge of a hill, with the sublime panorama of the twilight hour spread before them. Above, that cloudless dome, deepening every moment into a more intense Beneath, a wide waste of woods, stretched grey and dark under

azure.

the twilight sky.

And over

vague mass, just where

that

it

touched the

horizon, far in the west, hung a solitary star, glittering in lonely glory,

through the silent universe.

A

low, musical

murmur sounded through

the woods, echoing from the

was

the night.

the voice of an impetuous rivulet, forcing

of ice and rocks of granite.

Through

It

came through

shadows which no eye might penetrate.

way among

its

It

the rocks

was the Wissahikon. came one long and trembling ray of

It

the leafless trees,

light,

shining like a golden.arrow over the frozen snow. "

It is

the farm-house !" cried Jacopo, twirling his arms in grotesque

—" That's something Ah smell see — hearty, good-humored — — delight I

like

the fire

that

!

!

I

fire

the I

good things already

inhale the incense of

Come, John, let us forward !" Winding along a foot-path, that led through the valley, over a frozen brooklet, and up the opposite hill, they soon came in sight of the farm-house. It was a massive edifice, built of alternate logs and stone, two stories in height, with a steep roof and some five chimneys, of which the largest, It was a quaint structure altosent into the sky a rolling mass of smoke. the sausages

!

— THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKOX.

the porch before the door, fashioned

windows narrow and low,

gether, the

of rough cedar, the steep roof cumbered with the projecting eaves.

stood

It

—singular

as

it

19

may seem

—

many

rude ornaments along

lowest part of a circular

in the

have been- scooped out from the surrounding

hollow, which seemed to

woods.

On one

side the portly barn, looking, for

the world, like a rich and

all

self-complacent citizen retired from the business of active

up

at

once

horse-chesnut tree, with

Near corn-crib was

branches. the

Along the

was

the barn,

life,

and given

the other side arose a giant

ponderous trunk and many and far-reaching on one side of the enclosures of the cattle-yard,

seen, packed to bursting with the ears of golden maize.

which led

lane,

to

the farm-house door, a line of vehicles

discernible, with the horses attached to them, carefully tied to

the

Vehicles of every shape and pattern, from the massive farm-

rail fence.

er's

On

meditation and corpulence.

to

wagon, whose sides had often groaned under the heavy load of corn

and hay.

to

the quaint gig

— sulky or

—

which shall we call it ? Monk's cowl, and a seat perched Doctor made his circuit among the calash

that wonderful affair, with a top like a

high on springs,

in

which the

village

sick and suffering of the country-side.

From

afar, the light

of the fireside flashed through the farm-house win-

An

dows, out upon the starlight night. scene,

— yet hold

!

strains

Negro

old fiddle, in the hands of the blind is

air of

year

to his

to sing

far

There

and near the country

and dance and drink together, and send the old

grave, with a chorus of boisterous joy.

In the snmmer-time, this farm-house

Say, in the month* of June, dise,

chimney corner.

in the

From

a festival in the farm-house to-night.

people have come,

Sabbath repose imbued the

of music break on the silence, music from an

when

is

a pleasant sight to look

seems

the air

like a breeze

upon.

from Para-

and the Wissahikon goes singing on, among the trees that dip into

it,

among

it,

ready

the oaks that

to fall

shadow

and bless

its

it,

among

the flowers that tremble above

waters with their white bosoms

month of June, have you ever seen the farm-house, framed of leaves and blossoms

The

horse-chesnut stretches forth

There

is

a wild

say, in the

drapery

?

deep and rich in their virgin green ing, all the while, its

—

in the

its

arms, clothed with broad leaves

— and shelters

snowy blossoms around

honeysuckle

trailing

the steep roof, scatter-

the porch below.

over the dark timbers of the porch,

and the very lane, leading from the woods

to

the door,

is

enclosed in

green hedges, two winding walls of leaves and buds and flowers.

its

Then

the roof of the barn stands boldly out from the background of the forest,

and the

fields

of the

summer sky

the clouds

around, tufted with grass, spread their carpet in the smile

—

sweep over

that sky, it,

which only wears a deeper blue, when

unfolding their bosoms

to the sun.

—

!

PAUL ARDENHEtM; OR.

20

Thus, framed

But now of

summer-time, smiles the quaint farm-house, a dark image

in

that dark

walls

its

and verdure.

in freshness

image only looks more dark and dreary, as the gloom

The

contrasted with the roof, covered with snow.

is

around are white

—look!

how

fields

and

the rays of the fireside go sparkling

shiniHg over the white mantle which veils the sod, and shields beneath

it

the hidden seeds of spring.

The

horse-chesnut springs with leafless branches into the blue heaven,

marking each rugged limb and little branch, in black distinctness, on the Winter is on the scene, and the woods which encircle the clear azure. farm-house and

white

its

black and desolate.

fields are

upon

lane, our travellers stood, gazing in silence

At the end of the

the

prospect.

The young man, with bowed, fixed

He was

home.

hands clasped on his

his

upon

his dilating eyes

even

silent; but

seen his broad chest swell, his

staff*,

his

head slightly

windows of the forest dim starlight, you might have eye grow wild with a more in-

the lighted

the

in

brilliant

tense brightness. "

Only a month since

first I

saw

home

this

the wilderness ?"

in

he

murmured, and was silent again. And yet a great many thoughts may start into deeds Only a month It is but a little while, the humble twelfth Only a- month in a month. of the long year, and yet, in a month, only a month, battles may be lost !

!

and won, nations hurled from masters beneath

silk

and velvet,

may become

and bosoms that pant

into slaves,

cold and

under grass and sod.

still

month And yet, in a month, the heart of a pure virgin may be her form, the shrine of a love at once passionate and robbed of its bloom pure, become the monument of her dishonor. Only

a

!

;

'

;

How

my

heart

It is

She

!

innocent

is

—she

trusts

in

me

— she

is

pure

!

"

To-morrow vict,

has twined itself about the

the image of this wild forest girl

chords of

a terrible word, that to-morrow.

It is

doomed

taking his last sleep in the

murmured alike by the conand by the woman, who,

cell,

surrendering her purity into the arms of shame, shrieks

it

fearfully

amid

the frenzies of her guilty love.

To-morrow smile

and

!

Look upon

the lip of the

young

traveller,

curving in

a

read his dilating eye, warming with a wild yet voluptuous light,

;

tell

me what means

that smile, that look

7

A

fearful "

to-morrow"

for the wild forest girl

The " I

voice of Jacopo

would suggest

that is,

was heard

in the

Mister John

— and

most

:

delicate

manner

in the

world,

my

Lor

without the least desire to appear obtrusive,

that there are

two of us here, one of

or forest girls

— stands

whom — not being delighted

with stars

a dev'lish fine chance of being frozen to death.

'

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. Look

at

me, John

very well

head, and from

Did you ever see a human

!

to smile,

but

my

the blood in

all

head into

my

my

21

icicle before

Ah,

?

Did you ever see a nose

nose

it is

my

thin legs has rushed into

like

that before?"

He

placed a long and skinny finger against that intense carbuncle which

tip of his nose, and looked at his master with a sidelong leer. " Come," said John, with an involuntary smile, " let us hasten to the

formed the

Madeline awaits me."

farm-house.

As he hurried along the lane, Jacopo crept closer to his side, and taking the arm of his master within his own, whispered these jocular words " Music yonder, John,— d'ye hear it ? Supper too Ah One can And d'ye remember if the girl is willing, why you have smell that an elegant house in Philadelphia, which maj| be her home before mornwhy, trust the matter to me. If she refuses is obstinate, or stupid ing. :

—

!

—

—

—

—

—

l

A few grains

losopher,

*

!

of white

powder, properly prepared? saith an ancient Phi-

—

conveyed into the drinking-cup of an innocent maiden, will

D'ye hear the

fiddle,

John

?"

CHAPTER SECOND. YOCONOK.

Within

the farm-house the details of a strangely interesting picture,

lighted

by

the

warmth

Yet

ere

we

enter,

of a capacious hearth, awafit us.

we must go back

to the

hour of sunset, and gaze upon

a far different scene.

The

rays of the setting sun, streaming through the thick pines, gave

their faint It

was a

trunks of pine and

fir

trees,

impenetrable wall around together,

shadowed

a ray of light

and

is

to a lonely nook in the forest of Wissahikon. more than twenty yards in diameter. The starting side by side from the sod, formed an

and uncertain light

circular space, not

—that

it

it

;

their branches,

like a roof.

It is

meeting overhead. and woven

a silent place, enlivened only

by

streams over the frozen snow like a golden thread,

gone ere you can look again.

The deep green of

the branches forms a strong contrast to the slight

mantle of snow, which has drifted into

this lonely nook. Yonder, between those two huge trunks, you discern something, which

may

be the resting-place of a man, and yet looks like the

beast.

lair

of a wild

— PAUL ARDENHEIM

22

This

may choose The trunks of

or hut, whatever you

lair

simplest style of architecture.

of door-posts

;

and

OR, to call

it,

is

formed

after the

those trees supply the place

the skins of wild beasts stretched from branch to branch,

compose the roof the bed

;

some wild moss

;

Beside that hut, or

stands a

lair,

scattered on the sod beneath, at once

home.

floor of the rude

rifle,

with a stock of dark mahogany

inlaid with silver.

In the centre of the scene, seated on the trunk of that fallen tree blasted last

A

summer by

Man, though

the lightning

—you behold the

figure of a

A single tuft of snow-white hair waves from the A blanket, much worn and tattered, falls back from

years. skull.

Man.

wears the wrinkles of an hundred

his dark-red visage

centre of his his shoulders

and discloses the shrunken^outlines of that once broad and sinewy chest.

His thin limbs are cased

in leather leggings,

and he wears moccasins on

his long, straight feet.

The downcast at

head, sunken on the chest in an attitude of stolid apathy,

The

once arrests our attention.

like

high cheek-bones, the nose curved

an eagle's beak, the bold arch of the brow, the forehead lofty

portion to

its

width,

in pro-

indicate an organization once full of physical

all

and

mental power.

But age has

fallen

on

that noble

kles on either side of the

head and iron form.

compressed

lips, the

The deep

wrin-

cavernous hollow beneath

each cheek-bone, the muscles of the neck, resembling cords of iron, speak of

life,

Those sands

years.

eyes,

that stern

now

whose sands have been

A

are well-nigh run.

glaring with vacant despair

upon

falling for

little

all

an hundred

while, and those dark

the sod, will be darkened for-

ever by the shadow of the falling clod. It is

in this

an Indian that very

we

One hundred

behold.

King.

forest, the child of a

and looked, with a quivering pulse, upon the forms of

this soil,

warriors.

His

wigwam was

here

;

slumber upon yonder

They

are

all

dusky

in its

rude cradle, quivered in

tree.

gone now.

the strange white race,

his

here his squaw, with the brown cheek

and sad, deep eyes, and his child, encased its

years ago he was born,

Seventy years gone by, he strode

His race has passed they are forgotten by people the woods, and rear their stone ;

who now

wigwams on the plain. Of all his race, he is the Last. Think of the powerful People, who walked these woods an hundred the smoke of their wigwams rising from every dell, the gleam years ago

—

of their many-colored

wampum

belts seen

from every

hill-top

— and then

behold this stern image of their Destiny

— An old man, withered by

the long winter of an hundred years, seated

alone in the silent forest, suffering at once from intense hunger and cold,

and dying by inches

!

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. Go too

to the

proud

cold lips

will die

— Hark

you hear

!

for

lips

low murmur from

that

Death-Song of Yoconok, the

will die,

is

two

his thin,

last of his tribe.

— alone,—desolate as the winter which howls around him—

but die proud and uncomplaining. " Ghosts of my fathers, hear my voice, for

nok that

old Indian

?

It is the

He

The

!

even though no morsel has passed his

for that,

He

days.

white man's home, and beg for bread

23

calls

it

is

your

child,

it is

Yoco-

!

The old man Red Men

But he is coming, Fathers cold— no corn, no fire is coming to the happy hunting-grounds, he is coming to the land of Manitto He is cold now, but soon he will be He is warmed by the sun that never shines upon winter or snow hungry, the old warrior, but there, the deer wander without ceasing, through woods whose greenness never dies " You are there, my fathers. Yoconok sees you, as you stand upon the The sunlight high mountain, which guards the happy hunting-grounds. is upon your faces. The smoke of the calumet encircles your heads. Yoconok sees you all he is coming There, the squaw of Yoconok, "

of the

is

!

—he

!

!

!

there his child

—

the war-path, for

never

!

—

Yoconok

is

all

Ghosts of

!

coming

and the leaf never dies

sets,

Thus,

—

his People

in

to the

my

song of

fathers, sing the

happy

where the sun

land,

!"

our imperfect way, have

we endeavored

and simple death-song of the old Indian

the stern

to translate

When

chief.

he spoke in the

tongue of the pale face, his words were few and grotesque, but in his

own

tongue, the language of his fathers,

upon him now, with

that glassy

Yoconok was

eloquent.

eye brightening into new

life,

Look

that chest

throbbing with quick pulsations, that brow raised proudly in the wandering gleam of the setting sun

!

Fired with that last impulse of rifle,

and stood

erect,

life,

he started

to his feet

with his chest thrown forward, as

His eye was lighted with

confronting a mortal foe.

and seized the

if in

fire

the act of

of forty years

ago, his nostrils quivered with a quick nervous motion.

— the old

Yoconok is on the war-path once more Let the foe come is young again he knows no fear !" It was a glorious picture in the history of the Red Man that "

!

—

warrior

;

solitary

nook, walled and roofed by trees, mantled with a slight covering of snow, with the dying warrior erect in the centre, his chest bared, his arm raised in the act

But

it

of battle.

was only

for a

moment.

The impulse

died away, and the old

warrior sank helpless and exhausted upon the blasted tree. in his grasp, but his

arm was nerveless,

his sight

As he sank upon the log, the blanket murmured in his Indian tongue

—

falling

dim and

The

rifle

was

fast failing.

from his shoulders, he

"

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

24 m

She was

wam

the only friend of the old warrior, but she

comes

to the wig-

home of the pale face. When Yoconok was sick, the White Doe came when he was cold, she built his tire— her hands fed him, when the- old man could go forth on the hunting-path no more. But Yoconok is dying, and the White Doe comes The warrior is forgotten the home of the pale face has fire and not. The wigwam of Yoconok is dark !" water.

The White Doe

no more.

dwells in the

—

;

Chilled by the intense cold, fevered by the want of food, the old warrior

sank exhausted and insensible on the log.

arms hung nerveless by his side. There was a step upon the snowy moss

His eyes were glassy;

his

From an

the rustling of a withered leaf.

ward

form of a

the west, the

woman

—a

light,

interval

soft-echoing step, like

between the

trees, to-

appeared, and a woman's face looked

upon the gloom of the lonely covert. wandering ray of sunlight shone over her brown hair, and gleamed upon her humble garb, as she stood, with her hands raised in a gesture of in

A

surprise and alarm.

She was

more than eighteen years, clad

a girl of not

in the boddice

woman,

coarse linsey skirt, which formed the costume of a peasant

Yet

early days of Pennsylvania. full

bosom, and from beneath

and

in the

that boddice displayed the outline of a

that coarse skirt

appeared two small

feet

encased in rude moccasins.

From

brown

the folds of the

cloak,

which hung from her shoulders,

her round bare arms were visible, with a glimpse of the white neck and

bosom rising slowly Yoconok !" she cried,

into view.

fairer

"

and, springing along the sod, stood over the in-

sensible chief.

The lighted

wrapt

sunlight, gushing

up her in soft

suddenly through an opening in the boughs,

light,

which played over her brown cheeks, and shone

unbound masses of her chesnut

the

man were

while her form and the figure of the old

shadow.

sudden

In that

upon

face,

looked like the countenance of a virgin

hair, the face of the

young

girl

saint, encircled in a glory.

"Yoconok!" she cried, in the Indian tongue, "awake! the White She brings you food Doe is here she has not forgotten you ah !"

—

!

she exclaimed, in English, " he does not hear me, he

Her

voice

pulse of lips

"

life.

to

call

to

is

dead

—

the old warrior's heart, the last im-

His glassy eyes glowed with

faint lustre

;

his motionless

were unclosed again.

Good

!"

lin'— White It

seemed

back

he muttered in English, with a deep guttural accent

Doe— Good

— " Mad'-

!"

would have made your heart beat quicker,

to

behold the angel-like

tenderness of that brown-cheeked maiden.

"

You

are cold,

Yoconok"

— and she pressed

his chilled

hands

to

her

"

"

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. warm bosom, and wound beside him, she drew

the blanket around his shoulders.

some corn bread from

carried on her arm, but the old

"

"

throat.

"

fire-water !"

The

he

25

man

Then

sinking

which she

the small basket

could not eat.

cried, clutching her cloak, as he pointed to his

—Yoconok has not drank two days — not good the Red the ground — " The Evil Manitto veins and puts Wait, — bring you water from the Wissahikon

Yoconok

is

dry

for

1 have forgotten the flask !" she exclaimed, as she tossed the contents

of the basket on

fire-water is

for

the in his Man. It burns his heart, Yoconok I will As she whispered these words in the Indian tongue, bending her lips to his ear, a quick, pattering sound broke the deep silence of the shadowy !

—

nook.

The young

her eyes and stood spell-bound, with surprise.

girl raised

There, not ten paces from where she stood, a wild deer was gazing her face, with

its

large eyes dilating as in

beautiful doe, with sleek

The maiden

wonder and alarm.

It

in.

was a

brown skin and slender and tapering limbs. the gloom shadowed her from the view

stood like a statue

;

of the cautious animal, while the sunlight

fell

like a scarf of gold over

its

quivering nostrils and dilating eyes.

At once the brave "

The

girl's resolution

was

me many

old warrior has told

the neck of a dying doe, will save the

The doe gazed

for

started

—

its

began

stooping her head,

life

warm

blood from

of the sick and starving."

moment around

a

glance of fear and alarm

taken.

a time, that the

the covert, with that peculiar

—

short ears quivering

to

browse the

soft

all the while and then, and fragrant moss, which

from the intervals of the snow.

Even as the doe lowered her head, the young girl Her bosom heaved tremulously it seemed a terrible ;

gentle thing,

raised the sin

to kill

rifle.

that

which fed so innocently before her eyes.

Again the doe raised her head, again elevated her ears and gazed all the while the rifle, lifted in the soft arms o e the young girl, was levelled at her breast. around, and

Her aim was not she murmured

the

most

—"It

rifle

on the

At

is

certain in the world, yet as she raised the for

Yoconok's life!" and placed her finger

trigger.

this

moment

the sunlight,

shifting,

played more freely over the

head and graceful limbs of the doe. while all around was twilight gloom.

beautiful light,

She stood encircled by

life !" murmured the girl, her finger placed upon the a sharp, quick, almost imperceptible sound echoed from the opposite side of the forest. As quick as thought, Madeline turned, and

" For

trigger,

Yoconok's

when

her blood grew cold. For, glaring from the

two

brilliant points

shadow of

a pine branch

which touched

of flame sent their rays to her very breast.

the

ground

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

26

These

brilliant points of flame,

were the eyes of a female panther to spring upon the uncon-

which, crouching on the snow, was about scious deer.

The young

saw

girl

crouching form, darkly defined on the snow-

that

covered sod. I

need not

you

tell

that her heart beat

and came, while the

quickly, that her color went

was grasped by arms,

rifle

that

seemed suddenly

frozen into stone.

She could not fled

!

stir

terror held her paralyzed

;

side, in the sunlight

browsed

her mild eyes into the

A moment

and dumb.

those fiery eyes glared from the covert

Still

on the opposite

still,

;

the unconscious doe, raising every

sun— glancing round— and

moment

then stooping her head

to feed again.

"

The doe must

die, or else

the panther will spring

doe will escape

upon

Yoconok's

me— if I

life

is

turn the

gone

If I kill the doe,

!

upon

rifle

the panther, the

!"

Thus ran her wandering thoughts but at once she was resolved upon While her bosom heaved in gasps, while the hands ;

her course of action.

which grasped she

still

the rifle, seemed chilled in every vein, with the ice of death,

had the presence of mind

to retain

Again the doe raised her head.

It

was

her statue-like position.

For even

for the last time.

as

her large mild eyes glittered in that passing ray of sunshine, a whizzing

sound disturbed the dead silence fore the very eyes of the

maiden

—

a dark

body swept through

warm blood spouting over the panther's jaws. The maiden beheld it all. Saw the fur of the

its

and glossy

in the sun, as,

the air, be-

— and the doe lay mangled upon the sod, wild beast glow sleek

with a deep growl, she mangled the neck of the

quivering deer.

The

rifle

was

Woe to kill.

to

the

For

Hush

raised.

crashes on the silence

young

!

That sharp, quick report

;

how

it

!

girl

then, the

now, woe

to her, if

her trembling aim has failed

jaws of the panther, which

heart of the doe, will rend the

bosom of

the palpitating

tore

the maiden, and

grow crimson

with her blood.

She drew

the trigger, and

But the sound of the gaze, in

dumb

rifle

fell

swooning on the ground. back to

called the old warrior

life.

As we

surprise, he raises his head, starting into a sitting posture.

At a glance he beholds the dying doe, with the blood smoking as it pours He does not heed the panther, which writhes

from the mangled throat.

upon the sod, its skull cloven by the fortunate ball. But tottering forward, he falls upon the sod, gathers the doe in his arms, and applies

He

lips

—aye, pure and — he drinks crimson

to the

fresh, as

drinks the blood

heart of the deer

his

the

it

the

wound

warm body in the

of

throat.

pours from the palpitating

current, with a

mad

delight.

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON.

27

Yoconok will follow his foe on the "*Ugh !* Yoconok is a warrior !" war path and drink his blood Starting It was some time before the young girl unclosed her eyes. from her swoon, Madeline saw that dark night had fallen upon the woods, !

but the light of a cheerful flame shone in her face, and baptized those

canopy overhead, with a crimson glow.

giant trunks, the green

to

She passed her hands over her eyes, and glanced hurriedly from side Before her, in the centre of the covert, a mass of ponderous side.

logs

were blazing,

their heat imparting a delicious

by her

of the place, while in the

ruddy

light,

temperature

to the

air

crouched upon the sod, his face glowing

side,

was Yoconok.

In one hand he held the calumet, from which he inhaled the peaceinspiring fumes of tobacco

in the other a piece of peeled hickory,

;

which,

inserted in a slice of venison, held the savory morsel over the hot coals.

There was posure

a

calm expression

— a look of

deep quiet, and dreamy com-

— upon each corded wrinkle of Yoconok's withered

When

face.

Madeline awoke, she discovered that her head was resting on

He had

the Indian's knee.

over a sleeping babe light of the fire

—

built the fire, and, like a kind nurse

placed her head

would shine

upon

into her face.

watching

his knee, so that the full

In silence he guarded her

unconscious form. "

Ugh

!

her eyes told the

White Doe

White Doe,

old

Yoconok strong With his fingers he all

good"

is

— " White Doe

kill

—

he said in English, as she unclosed

deer.

Blood save Yoconok

man hungry,

old

man

tore the half-broiled venison,

life.

Manitto

White Doe came,

dying.

and devoured

it

with

the eagerness of famine.

Madeline rose, and placed her hand upon the Indian's shoulder, and stood in silence.

The

streamed over her, and you might

light of the fire

freely read the expression of her face,

and gaze upon' each waving outline

of her form.

Around

that face,

whose

rich

the full lips and swelling cheek, hair.

Her eyes were

brown hue deepened

into vermilion

on

swept the unbound masses of her brown

large and shaded

by long

lashes.

Their color was

a soft brown, darkening sometimes into black, but always brilliant and

come forth in the purple of the twilight hour. She was by no means tall, but that which her form lacked in height, was supplied by its full and flowing outlines. sparkling as the stars that

Her shoulders

wave that young bosom comes gently into view. The skirt of coarse texture which descended but a short distance below the knee, gave some indications, by its folds, of the warm beauty of the maiden's shape. Her cloak had fallen aside, and her arms glowed with are seen above the coarse boddice, and like a

swells without breaking, her

the clear hues and round outlines, in the light of the

fire.

—

!

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

28 Altogether, a picture

That

gined. lighting

crimson.

fire,

more

interesting in

-

varied details cannot be Ima-

its

flashing over the bark of the encircling trees, and

up the dark green branches above. The snow blushing into Here the old Indian, a stern image of decay, seated on the .

arms clasped on his knees, the smoke of the pipe winding

earth, his

about his wrinkled features

;

young

there, a

clad in peasant attire,

girl

brown

yet with a ripening bloom glowing freshly from her

waving

and

face,

in the outlines of her virgin form.

"You must warrior's

arm

been myself

forgive me,

—

for

— she

Yoconok"

hand upon the old

laid her

For two days I have not seen you. But I have not two days. I have been wild mad There is a dark

"

—

!

cloud upon the path of your White Doe."

As she spoke sadly *

he inclined his head

in the dialect of the Indian,

one side and listened in evident anxiety. " Does the old man hear the voice of the child

Doe speak

the language of

Dreams

—or

to

does the White

?"

Madeline crouched on the earth by his

side,

and clasping her hands

over her form, murmured with a faltering voice

"Yoconok

is

my

For years

only friend.

She comes

the poor orphan girl.

face of father or mother,

who

to

has lived

stranger, in

dependence on others,

—Tell me,

father,

his

him now.

words have been She,

her

all

now comes

life,

by

to the old

the

man

fire

;

bony

in his

The

old chief turned

shone in his lustreless eyeballs, as he placed her

" Shall the White

Doe become

the

squaw of

—

beautiful,

something soft

palm

Gilbert the Hunter, the

dwells in the forest, or of this Stranger, of the pale face, and has no name ?"

" Yes

;

fingers.

Man who cities

of the

I

with her large eyes veiled in moisture. like affection

to

the

for counsel.

must do, or I will die !" Her cheek was flushed, her bosom panting she looked very

what

life

who never saw

who tomes from

the

—

would ask of you three days since, " you the whole story " The heart of the White Doe inclines to Gilbert, the Man of the Forest, but her soul wanders against her will to the Stranger who has

before

that is the question I

I fell sick, I told

no name ?"

—

" Yes"— faltered Madeline—" Yes that is it I love Gilbert we were children together I have always loved him. But this stranger, ah I who. a month ago, appeared for the first time in our farm-house his voice fills me with a wild terror His eye deprives me of all power !

;

;

;

Wherever yet an

No

!

move,

see

—

!

at night

he

my dreams

him, and

unknown power draws me toward him, and makes j Not love him For I fear him too much. I cannot gaze

into his

I

is

in

!

!

eye without a shudder

The

him

I fear

I

No

!"

old warrior did not reply.

His eyes were fixed on the

fire,

the

— *

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. pipe was extended in his

left

hand, but he sate motionless as a stone.

much addressed

her agitation Madeline had not so tarily

shaped her thoughts

in

words. Wondering

of Yoconok, she laid her hand lightly

With a shudder she looked Yoconok Spe?k to your

"

upon

into his face

child

!

dark world

29

Do

!

— the

continued silence

at the

arm

his

—

was

it

me

alone, in the cold,

not, but a faint light, like the last

ray of the expiring taper,

She flung herself upon him,

girded his gaunt form in her bared arms, and pressed her against his withered face.

"

He

is

— "Mine back

•

!"

He spoke

the

'cold as ice.

eyes were glassy.

not leave

glanced from his motionless eyeballs.

upon

In

the Chief, as involun-

downy cheek

Cold the form, cold the cheek, cold as the

ice

Wissahikon. dead !"

The

wild shriek of Madeline rung through the woods

The blood

friend!

only,

to life for a

moment

— he

is

dwell, and without one parting

of the dying deer only called him

dead, gone

word

to the

land where his fathers

to his child I"

She was an orphan, one of those wandering children of God, whom Those words are full of Alone in the world calls, Child

no one

!

meaning, but

to the

the orphan they

!

orphan they speak

mean poverty and

But she was not yet altogether from the cold

lips

in tones of horrible emphasis.

neglect, temptation

A

alone.

To

and despair.

few muttered words quivered

With

of the dying Indian.

the

last

gleam of

life

Do

not

playing over his motionless balls, he spoke " Fear this

put your not

see,

—do

Stranger

as the

He

is

Manitto of Evil brave, he

is

true,

him

fear

!

but hands that he can-

guide him on to a deed of falsehood and blood. Fear the stranger

not trust Gilbert

shelter,

!

trust in Gilbert.

—but dread

the old

dread him worse than hunger

With these words,

man,

ivhose roof gives

—cold — or death

you

!"

— spoken not as we have written them, but in an In-

dian dialect, which compresses a hundred separate .ideas in a sentence,

— the old

Chief,

who had

once grasped the hand of William Penn, lay

on the snow, as cold as the wind which swept his tawny cheeks, as motionless as the great twunks light, like th-e

unhewn

which encircled the scene, pagan temple.

rising in the fire-

pillars of a

Madeline was alone.

The same the

cheerful glow, which lighted

up her young

face,

shone over

mangled deer, and revealed the cold features of the dead Indian.

The woods were very still. Now and then, a war-blast, down some midnight ravine,

like

save the crackling of

the wild-wood

fire

died

a gust of wind howled, and* again, every sound

away,

in

an unearthly

stillness.

Her arms

clasped, her beautiful profile cut distinctly on the dark back-

ground, her large lustrous eye, her

warm

nether

lip tinted

by

the

fire,

stood in an attitude of deep sorrow, gazing into the face qf the corse.

she

!

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

30

As

the old

man

had folded his arms, and knit his brows

died, he

looked stern and unrelenting, even as a corse

upon

fiance

he de-

man at the Farm-House when I was discovered in these But Yoconok was my friend; to him I

True, the old

!

— a poor, forsaken

sorrows, of him

Now

was not alone! more desolate than

I

Beside the

the hour

babe.

woods;

my

;

was a warrior's

his red visage.

He was my only friend gave me food and shelter, since li

brought

there

;

it

While he

asked advice.

I

is

changed!

the fate of the poor

lived, I felt that

This cold winter night

Orphan

Girl

she knelt, and raised her eyes, and spread forth her

fire

hands, and through the canopy of overarching pines, looked up

how

0,

"

— God.

of light

step aroused her from her prayer

— with

to

over her brown face, that expression of child-like Faith

softly,

stole, like a veil

A

not

is

!"

— a hand was

upon her shoulder

laid

a half-uttered cry of fear, she sprang to her feet.

The Wizard

!

The

Ghost-seer

she cried, clasping her hands to

!•'

her breast, with an accent and a gesture of shuddering fear. "

Nay, maiden, do not

a Watcher, in

and

I

will

this

come

to

knowledge of

the

fear

me.

Old Isaac harms no one.

The Lord

dreary world. thee ;"

the Life

and

lo

which

He

hath told him,

is

but

"Watch

Isaac watches evermore, seeking

!

Eternal

is

Dost

!

fear

the old

man,

maiden ?" In the light of the in

fire,

stood a stunted figure, not more than five feet

back bent, as

height, the chest narrow, the

with years, the veins

if

swelling black and distinct on the pale face and dead-white hands.

That

face

— sunken on

the breast

— was

marked by deep wrinkles, which

traversed the cheeks and brow, and added to the spiritual look of those blue eyes, which

white eyebrows.

seemed not so much

From

to

shine, as

head of the stranger, long locks of straight hair

fell

waved in white masses, in the light of the fire. He was clad after the costume of the olden time. faded and worn, with buttons of polished metal pels,

descending half-way

kles around

the

to the

knees

;

;

burn, beneath the

to

a small cap of black cloth,

which covered the

like snow-flakes,

A

dark coat, much

a vest with white lap-

black stockings, which

sunken limbs, and large shoes,

and

glittering

fell in

wrin-

with silver

buckles.

This was the costume of the old man, whose form indicated extreme old age, or premature decrepitude, while his blue eyes

gave an almost hallowed look

And

to his

wrinkled

and white

hair,

face.

yet the maiden shrunk from that withered form, with her hands

clasped on her bosom, and

felt

her blood grow

chill, as

she encountered

the glance of those mild blue eyes. »'

Do

— and a

not fear me, maiden. brain, eqten

by much

I

am

toil,

an old

man — a poor

withered frame

and the labors of long and dreary win-

—

—

:

—

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. Passing through the woods,

ters.

and

aged Indian

this

come "

to his aid.

Do

not

—

indeed

:

I will

man were

I

was about

cried Madeline, rushing forward, as the

!"

your hands upon him. For they

" they say, that you" What do they speak ill of me ?" asked the old man, raising eyes " Of me A poor old withered man, who lives apart from

say" "

a shudder pervaded her form

!

world, and cares not for

They

"

nor for

idle uproar,

its

you have sold yourself

say, that

its

to the

all

?" and a smile stole over his wrinkled face

my

fire-side gossip,

body of your

friend

—

good

will

girl.

have

it

of Christian burial. to the Devil ?"

rites

" But

let

— Does

that

the tranquil

— " Never

Now mark me — I will conveyed to my house

side of the Wissahikon, near the Schuylkill

the great

of Mankind,"

will, to

glance of the stranger.

" Is that

mild

his

petty joys ?"

Enemy

gasped Madeline, her eyes enchained, against her

such

to

placed upon the arms of the dead Indian

" For the sake of God, do not place

— —

his last, as

secure Christian burial for his corse."

—do not touch him

hands of the old

witnessed the scene between you

I

saw him gasp

I

31

—and

bury

heed

take the dead

on the other with

it,

look like the act of one

who

all is

the

sold

Yoconok rest among his woods and trees. What need of a him ? Let him be buried among his pines, where the

cold graveyard for

Song of the Wissahikon

slumber, and a granite rock will

will cheer his

pillow his head."

The Maiden,

in her earnestness,

advanced and

hand upon the

laid her

"Wizard's" shoulder.

Yoconok

11

shall

With

a

me

go with he

I will be his friend, after

!"

he calmly

dead.

is

Hah

"

said.

!

What

He

has no friends

is this I

;

see ?"

sudden gesture he seized the white hand, -which rested on his his blue eyes dilating until they seemed fired with mad-

— — turned the palm towards the

shoulder, and

ness

No

"

your sight the

!

I

read

it,

in the lustre of

of a changeless Destiny

fire

honor and a Sudden Death "

It

fire

Bridal ring shall ever cross this hand

is false !"

will

!

Alas

!

No

!

child shall ever bless

your eye, which Alas

!

I

pity and

is I

lighted with rejoice

!

Dis-

soon be yours !"

gasped Madeline, her cheek pale as marble— " In the loves us all, I defy your Master, who only hates and

name of God, who cannot love !"

She covered her

The

old

face,

and stood with her head bowed, near the fire. her trembling form with a look of overwhelm-

man gazed upon

ing compassion, which

was soon displaced by an expression of singular triumph. There was an unnatural joy in his parting lips, his eyes sparkling with lifht, his face flushed with crimson.

Not

a

word was spoken

the interest of the scene.

;

a silence, unbroken

by

a whisper, deepened

— PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

32

M Pity

me

me

cried Madeline, as she raised her eyes

!"

an early death, and of

to

Isaac did not answer;

ah

deaths,

all

I

not

dare not speak

doom !"

it

mingled expression of triumph and

the

still

!

—" Do

pity agitated his aged features.

Come

tS

Black David," said Isaac the Wizard, turning toward the

hither,

darker recesses of the covert

—

"

Take

this

body and bear

to

it

my

house.

Dost hear?"

From by

the

—already appalled — beheld with indescribable

shadows advanced a form, which Madeline

the

words of the old

man

fear.

was a miserable wreck of humanity, not more than four feet in height,' with the crooked limbs trembling beneath the huge body, the It

back

hump, and

rising in a shapeless

said, horse-like face, resting

mass of straight black " Y-e-e-s, Master

From

!

mass of

the long, unnatural,

we had

almost

on the breast, and hidden beneath a shaggy

hair.

here

I'se

!

What

wouldst do with 'un ?"

two large eyes shot a strange unnatural gleam, as the fire, rising in a sudden flame, tinted with strong light, the grotesque points of this deformed figure. that

He was

hair,

kind of mantle, wrapping the deep

a coarse garb, a

clad in

chest and the protuberant

hump, with

the

arms appearing from

covered with loose sleeves of dark cloth. in tangled masses,

Strange

His straight black

formed the only covering

to say, the

folds,

its

hair, falling

for his head.

hands were small, white and delicate, presenting a

to the chaotic physical vigor of the deformed man. body of Yoconok dost hear me ? I would give him ChrisBear it to my mansion. I will reward you. Go !" tian burial. Madeline for a moment seemed deprived of all power of motion or speech. All the wild legends which she had heard, concerning the old

strong contrast "

Take

—

the

man, Isaac the Wizard, and her brain

;

she

felt

his Familiar Spirit,

Black David, crowded on

awe pervade her

veins and pale her cheek.

a creeping

In this pale-faced old man, she beheld a Servant of the Evil one

;

in

whose physical deformity was at once hideous and pitiable, she saw an Incarnate Demon. Such was the Superstition of the olden time, when every old woman, not remarkable for personal beauty, was burned as a Witch, and old men, not regular in attendance at Meeting, and somewhat given to burning canthe poor wretch,

.

dles late at night,

"

Do

not touch

were choketl to death, as Wizards. He was my friend !"

him

!

Madeline started forward, and wizard. for

a

A

faint

moment

laid

her hand upon the arm of the

smile was visible on the old man's face

he regarded

;

her countenance, glowing with an intensity of fear, and

then taking her arm gently within his own, led her from the^kre. " Come," he said, " the wood is cfark, the way lonely. I will wait .

upon you

to the

farm-house door.

Come

—never

fear

me

!

They

tell

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. sad stories of

my

hear— and,

life, I

ha, ha

linked with me, in an infernal compact in those black eyes of thine,

He

her gaze

is

craft !"

is

all

looked up into his face with some-

more of

—he led her

the light streamed over the

there

— who

thing of reverence for his age, in

— more wizard —Remember, David

than in

led the trembling girl

manifested

my

poor Black David here,

!

Come

!

33

lore.

fear for his supernatural character,

shadows of the

the

into

covert, and

deer, the dead chieftain, and the de-

mangled

formed man.

Through

meshes of

the

his tangled hair,

and the maiden, and then, like a beast on the

fire,

his white

he gazed

its

man

the old

after

haunches, crouched beside

hands supporting his cheeks, while his elbows rested

on his knees.

The

was swept aside from ruddy fire-light.

hair

his face, and his features appeared

distinctly, in the

must be confessed that the face was hideous, and its unnatural length, manner in which it seemed to rest directly on the chest, made the resemblance which it bore to the head of a horse, more palpable and It

the

repulsive.

The brow was heavy chin round and

full

;

;

the nose long and thin, the

the eyes deep-set and

was the general character of straight

masses on either side

;

full

that face, with

mouth

of intense

small, the

Such

light.

thick

the hair falling in

but the sudden glow of the

fire

made

the

cheek-bones seem unnaturally prominent, the hollow beneath more deep

and cavernous, and gave the brow a bolder outline, the

lips a

more decided

scorn, the eyes a wilder light.

He

crouched by the

snow-mantled earth.

The massy

winter blast, and the

form darkly defined against the

his distorted

fire,

pine-branches

trees around,

above

bent slowly

glowed from black

to

the

into crimson.

Spreading forth his hands, which looked as white and delicate as the

marble hands of a sculptured Venus, he seemed absorbed in his

own

wandering thoughts.

He

spoke

the echo of his voice broke the deep silence, with a start-

;

ling emphasis,

and yet that voice was

tones of a beautiful

soft, thrilling

and musical, as the

woman.

— a wilderness of strange memories thus manner or his language — " In a long while — look back

" Three hundred years

!"

it is

he murmured, without the slightest indication of ignorance or vulgarity in his

truth,

There was

the bluff Harry,

the establishment of the to

be criminal

Mary

called

;

renowned

to

it is

!

number of his wives, and Pale-faced Edward, too young

for the

Reformation.

Lady Grey, who passed from

the throne

Bloody, and Elizabeth called Virgin

;

to

the block

;

James the Pedant;

—

Charles the Martyr and Charles the Libertine all are gone long ago. Dust and ashes, despite their fine linen and royal blood. Yet I see them all again, see them as plainly as when— Tut Tut M !

3

!

——

PAUL ARDENHEIM

3i

He more

glanced

around the covert, with his deep-set eyes kindling

vivid light

"They may

OR,

;

v

:

me

hear

—

me Madman

in a

—ho!

ho! Then to the Three hundred years A great while to live, but wearisome, very, very wearisome To see onecentury whirling along, bubbling and frothing just like the others, and call

with the old dotard

prison or the scaffold

!

!

!

only bubbling and frothing with a more the great abyss, called

Time

Past,

I am weary of it all, and" The body of the Indian Chief,

Ages

uproar as

goes

it

down

in

!

warmth of

He

"

pitiful

which has swallowed up the Dead

And

the

fire,

sleeps well

met

But

!

and motionless

resting stiff

in the

his gaze.

as for

me"

as he bent his face nearer to the fire,

as in a gesture of supplication,

and clasped

white hands,

his

might be seen that there were the eyes of the Deformed Maniac. it

tears in

CHAPTER THIRD. THE FARM-HOUSE. "

Come,

yourselves

folks, help

It's

!

and we'll send the dull old fellow good things under his easy

Some

!

down

You

see, neighbor, I

Hey

?

end of the table

there, at 'tother

Spurtzelditscher

Dutch.

and a bowl of good liquor

of the turkey, Parson

bor

in

belt,

?

—a-h

swear

the last night of the

English

in

There's something that

!

fat I

How

!

Try

?

There's

!

Old Year,

his grave, with a hearty store of

to

to

are

make him

a slice of this

and

lean

!

ham, neigh-

By Thun-der

sometimes wish

stirs the heart, in

sleep

you comin' on

I

!

could swear

a solid, deep-chested

—

Dutch oath! Now then, who's for the cider? a-h, that's the stuff! hisses and froths like an old maid, who has been caught lying about her neighbors— the rale October juice of the red-streaked Spitzenberger, as I'm an honest man

The

!"

old man, at the head of the table, raised the hot poker with one

hand, while the other rested upon the edge of the broad bowl, which was filled

to

the brim with the

steaming cider.

It

was a curious-looking

bowl, fashioned of some strange wood, hard as iron, with an uncouth

name, and crowded

all around most grotesque character.

its

capacious sides with carvings of the

"

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. an old man, but you must not picture

He was

35

yourself a spare form,

to

or lantern jaws, or eyes bleared and glassy.

Beneath the ample folds of his brown waistcoat, a rotundity that would have made the fortunes of a dozen Aldermen, was hidden his hair, eyebrows and long beard, were all white as snow, yet his round cheeks ;

glowed with

as

tints

warm and

which make an unbroiled liver. The eyebrows on his forehead, and hung

rosy, as those

look lovely in the eyes of a good

sirloin steak

were white, as though the snow had fallen moment, ere it melted before the summer of

And

his cheeks.

there for a

from beneath those shaggy outlines, two eyes, very small, very black,

yet,

and piercing as daggers' points, glittered like newly lighted coals. together

plump like a

As

it

was

a face that

would have warmed

and unctuous look,

outline,

huge red pear, ripening

in the

form of the old man,

to the

nothingness, by

its

Al-

hungry man, with

its

say nothing of the nose, which shone

autumnal sun.

would have scared

it

his chest that

a famine into

His broad shoul-

very picture of eloquent fatness.

sinewy arms,

ders, his

to

a

shook with laughter, deep and soshirt, his hands round and plump,

norous, beneath the lace ruffles of his

glowing

to the

very finger

who seemed

fellow,

icicles

floor,

from the

grasped the corpulent bowl, frothing

tion

health,

— " That's

while

I

think

As he

my

the stuff to

o't,

down

set

good folks

warm

!

fire-place to the

blazing point

its

in

In

the other he

the heart and set the brain a-fire

King George

here's a health to his Majesty,

And.,

!

!"

the bowl, he slightly inclined his head to one side, and

one eye half-closed, along the

was an

;

which

doorway.

to the brim with fragrant cider. A-a-h !" with a sigh of deep satisfac-

smoothing down his white beard, with his plump

It

a hale old

new bloom on

of age.

one hand he raised the poker, with

Your

time, and catch

seated in his great arm-chair, at the head of the table,

extended along the sanded

"

— ah, he was

with corpulence,

tips

grow younger with

from the very

his cheeks,

He was

to

fingers,

he glanced with

well-filled board.

In the foreground, a huge turkey, brown was lengthened out with a savory panorama of

interesting scene.

and smoking

;

the view

ham, chickens and venison, interspersed with white pyramids of home-made bread, and bowls of steaming cider. This long table, groan-

boiled

ing under the weight of substantial cheer,

some twenty-five

glowing between his farmer, with

country

black

bony hands and

girls,

"A

fat

ears,

little

—very—

was framed by

;

the faces of

the parson, with his red face

cap and blacker iron frame

gown

:

there the

portly

yonder a group of rosy-cheeked

and beyond them, a Philadelphia lawyer, lank as a bean-

pole and devouring as a Famine.

ened the

Here

or thirty guests.

The

knives and forks deaf-

clatter of

and was only interrupted by a chorus, something like

more of

the

ham

!" cried

the

Parson

;

this

:

"red lean and white

— PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

36

"Some of the chicken, Dolly ?" "legs or breast ?" n Cider

Your

exclaimed a gallant country beau

—

Royal stuff, that !" was the rewhose broadcloth shone beside the country home-spun " Did you say, you would like a piece of this chicken ?" " The salt, if you please. A little ham. There. Some turkey, A Thank you for the corn-beef. Pass the venison. touch of that rabbit. Cider— yes, sir, cider. Health, sir. Little more ham Pass the pepper. Just a hint of that 'possum." Some more turkey no This was the Philadelphia lawyer, whose knife and fork seemed impelled by a mechanical power of unknown capacities, while his plate went round the orbit of the table like a planet, somewhat hasty and His lank jaws were never still. He seemed to irregular in its motions. have been placed upon this earth, only to solve a great problem, to wit, how much can a man devour whose body resembles a lath or a bean-pole, and how long will it require for him to eat himself into an apoplexy ? " Dat rabbit ish nish Mein Gott Neighbor Perkenpine !" was the remark of Neighbor Spurtzelditscher, a short, thick, brown-faced farmer, in linsey-wolsey, who was commonly called " Spurtz" for the

mark

?

health, neighbor

!

of a city merchant,

—

!

—

!

!

!

sake of brevity and an easy

Two

life.

farmers sat beside each other, engaged in earnest conversation,

must be confessed was carried on with perseverance and ingenua wider field. You may see them, near the lower end of the table, both very old men, alike thin, withered and greyhaired, and The one this way, cannot speak a syllable of attired in linsey-wolsey. which

it

worthy of

ity,

any language but English, and his friend understands never a word, that But still, with all these obstacles, which to not spoken in German. the vulgar mind might appear insurmountable, they maintain a very inis

telligible,

nay, interesting conversation.

Neighbor Wampole, the farmer who speaks English and English only, poises the white breast of a chicken on his fork, gazes intently in his

neighbor's face, and utters distinctly his condensed opinion 11

Good /" he

To

this

word, that

cries,

and the chicken disappears.

emphatic remark, neighbor Schneider, is

not German, replies

opossum, and displaying

it

for

a

who

cannot speak a

by elevating a savory

moment

slice of the

before his neighbor's eyes;

which he significantly remarks "Goot!" and the opossum vanishes.

after

The bowls

are

significant glance,

touched

;

one drinks

to the other's health

;

again that

and again that interesting interchange of thought—

"Good/" "Goot!" Near these intelligent and communicative neighbours, and opposite parson, was seen a gentleman of some forty years, remarkable for

the his

THE MONK OF THE VVISSAHIKON.

G7

curls, his velvet coat, silver shoe-

immense wig, with flowing flaxen

This was the

buckles, and prominent nose, curved like a parrot's beak.

—

Doctor of the country-side, famous for the potency of his " hum ha 1" which was supposed to comprise a whole encyclopaedia of medical knowledge,

and

for the peculiarly

dexterous application of his gold-headed cane

to the side of his nose.

He

never had

much

and on the present occasion, merely

to say,

terrupted the important duty of supper, with such remarks as

and

in verity, this

For

his

stewed rabbit

in-

— " Soberly

a tooth-some dish !"

is

almost unbroken silence, he seemed to continually apologize

by drinking deep draughts of the steaming cider. Indeed, a superficial observer of human nature would have supposed, at first sight, that the Doctor was in liquor, or that the liquor was in the Doctor for his head went bobbing from side to side like a cork on a wave, and he brushed imaginary flies from the tip of his nose, with great energy and perse;

verance.

And while the supper-party went gayly on by the light of the homemade candles, which were placed along the board, there was a fire of huge

and crackling within the broad arch of the spacious

logs, blazing

hearth.

The

crimson flashes over the faces of

light of that roaring fire fell in

the guests, and lighted

up with

its

hearty glow every nook and corner of

the farm-house hall.

Would you like Time? Then strip your

to

look upon that Picture of Comfort in the Olden

imagination of

all

modern

ideas,

and prepare

for a

picture of 1774, as widely contrasted with 1847, as a hale old Revolu-

tionary soldier, with his rosy cheeks and snow-white hair, compares with

a Chesnut Street dandy, remarkable only for his slim waist and sublimely insipid face.

Do not expect No carpets from

to

behold any thing like imported carpet on the

Brussels or from

Smyrna conceal

floor.

the sanded boards,

nor are the walls covered with hangings of French paper.

There are

no chairs with narrow seats and dangerous backs, looking like chairs that never

ment of

were healthy, but stricken with consumption from the moNor is there any diminutive stove, glaring with the

their birth.

you behold tables with marble tops, or name, adorned with showy lamps, or winand sills as narrow as a bigot's soul.

pestilence of anthracite; nor do

mantel-pieces,

unworthy of

the

dows with Venitian blinds, Look around this farm-house

hall

and see what comfort was

like, in

the olden time.

The

upon the sanded floor, and which support the ceiling. The walls snow, and the window-frames deep-sunken and capacious*

light ef the great hearth-fire sparkles

glows along those huge are white as

rafters

— :

PAUL ARDENHEIM

38 In one

round Dutch

But

the hearth

hangs a

rifle,

cess on either

A

and

face,

its

opposite you discern the old clock, with

;

new moon

It

beneath some pagan archway.

looks like a

Above

the arch

on the antlers of the wild deer, and within the side of the fire, benches of substantial oak are placed.

re-

on the bench to the right, his fingers outspread towhich imparts its red glow to his ebony features, and

sits

the flame,

reveals the fiddle laid with is

its

broken cloud.

resting

blind negro

Opposite

rising over a

decidedly the centre of the picture.

is

fire built

great sacrificial

ward

cupboard, painted blue, and glittering with a

corner stands the

store of burnished pewter

OR,

;

its

bow

across his knees.

whose black face is contrastwound about the temples, while her

seated a corpulent old dame,

ed with a flaming red handkerchief

withered hands are crossed upon her linsey dress. " I say, Phillisey, dis am comfor'bl' !" " It ar, Sam, you blind nig gar /" Near the hearth, seated on huge arm-chairs, behold three white dames, whose rotund forms and full-moon faces, do not indicate any deprivation

of the comforts of

Their heads bent together,

life.

white caps

their

touching each other, they pass the snuff-box, and converse in earnest

whispers.

"

It is a strange world, Betsy !" " And, Nancy, we've all got to die

" But, Sally,

You

was not so when

it

I

sometime .'" was a girl !"

will at once perceive, that their conversation

The

resting character.

is

snuff-box passes, and the

of the most inte-

thoughts of the old

ladies take a different turn.

« Queer world

"

!

We

Laws-a-massy, Betz

'Dust must all go " " When I was a girl

But

by

!

at this

moment of

!"

to dust,' as the

Parson sez

I"

absorbing interest the conversation

is

interrupted

the bluff, hearty tones of the host

" I say, Parson, did Year's supper ?"

you ever hear

Hontz and

the story of Old

his

New

By way

of

commanding

attention,

he brought the handle of his knife

upon the table, with all the force of his right arm. " Never did !" responded the Parson, from the other end of the

table,

as he raised a dainty piece of rabbit to his lips.

"

Nor you, Lawyer Simmons

Did none of you ever hear

?

Nor you, Doctor Perkenpine

the story of Old

Hontz and

his

t

?

New

Hello

!

Year's

supper ?"

For At

a

least

moment

the great

work of

eating and drinking

was suspended. There was a

twenty faces were turned toward the jovial host.

wicked twinkle tion of his

head

in the old fellow's half-closed eyes, to

one side looked suspicious.

and even the

inclina-

— THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. "

Peter !" was the burden of twenty

story, friend

Never heard the

39

voices.

The

man

old

himself easily in his huge chair, smoothed his

settled

white beard with his

and took a hearty draught of

fat fingers,

cider.

Then, taking a pipe from a side pocket, he quietly tilled the bowl with tobacco, lighted it at the candle, and resting comfortably in his chair,

seemed

at

peace with

around his red " As you're

all

story, but very,

done supper, I'd like

very good

of stewed rabbit.

"

;

smoke

the

floated in wreaths

Talkin' o' rabbit,

— very toothsome,"

Could not be

better

you the

to tell

especially to those,

have feasted plentifully upon

I

Parson. " It is savory **

the world, as

all

face. It's a

short

eaten heartily Parson ?"

how

d'ye like

this

dish, friend Peter," replied the

it,

echoed the Doctor. the rabbits ?" inquired the

where did you get

!

story.

who have

lawyer.

"ThaVs the fun of it, Lawyer Simmons. Where did I get the rabbits ? ThaVs the very cream of the joke. Now mark me, everybody here, when I've told my story, they will be sorry that they did not try the stewed nous

For, as you will see, this story

rabbit.

taste for

" But concerning this

is

apt to give one a rave-

"

stewed rabbit

unknown person whom you

call

Old Hontz ?"

suggested the Parson. "

want you

I

all

to

be very

still,

while

I

tell

story.

this

G-a-ls

(turning to the three corpulent dames,) stop babbling and listen !"

guests were

all

attention

;

!

The

you might have heard a pin drop. " Once upon named Hontz, who had a house in a

a time, there lived a jolly old fellow

woods, and was well-to-do

world

in the

spite,

when

rich,

was old Hontz, and fond of

bachelor. lied

They

of,

gether

The

neighbors almost died of

and of a glass

he gained his money

and most dreadful

weje three persons, who cider,

fun,

telling strange stories of

said

horses, or his oxen, or his

think

his

!

He was

But he was a

Therefore every gossip in the neighborhood lied about him

murderously,

fellow.

;

they looked at his barn, or saw his sleek cattle.

cows

— but

to tell.

Old Hontz, the rare jovial

—not

from his farm, or his

in unheard-of-ways,

Now, among

fed at the old fellow's table,

and yet lied more horribly about him, than " jovial Peter paused, and

smoothed

horrible to

those neighbors, there

and drank of his all

the world to-

his beard, emitting a

volume

Even dames by the fire bent forward, in attitudes of absorbing interest, and the old Negro in the chimney corner remarked, in an undertone, to Phillisey "Berry bad neighbors, dem !" " " Now one of these persons was a lawyer

of smoke, as he glanced over the faces of the wondering guests. the three aged

—

—

"

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

40

" Su-r-e !" exclaimed lawyer Simmons, dropping his cider bowl.

"

" One a doctor

" Remarkable !" and the Doctor, in his surprise, permitted a savory slice of rabbit to fall

"

And

"

A

the other

Eh

parson?

from his

was

fingers.

a parson V

more firmly on

nose, and fixing the black cap

Yes—by

"

The

!

9

Neighbor Peter ?" cried the Parson, rubbing

!

his

his head.

lawyer, the doctor and the parson,

who

fed at

the old fellow's table, and drank of his cider, never spoke of him, save it may be, some who lives in the

with a shrug of the shoulders, or a wink of the eye, and

such kind remark as

woods

alone, but

1

this

— 'A

—here was

very clever old fellow,

the sore point

—

'

Where

does he get

all his

money V " It

was a very

remark the twinkle of neighbor

interesting thing, to

Peter's half-closed eye, as he paused again in his story.

A

singular silence had fallen on the supper guests

other's faces, and then cast their eyes

"Now,

do you want

know how

to

down upon

they gazed in each

;

their folded hands.

this jolly old fellow

(with a white

beard and a great round paunch, mark ye) revenged himself

?

He knew

the doctor, the lawyer, the parson, to be very fond of good eating, but of

kinds of eating, stewed rabbit, and of

all

The

all

kinds of stewed rabbit

story began to be very interesting.

Why

it

—

was we cannot

tell,

but certainly the greater portion of the guests began to cast stealthy

who

glances at the doctor, the lawyer and the parson, the supper-board.

Yes

apery of green leaves. It is

a sad,

still

The beams of the sun stream with fitful splendor That strange old mansion seems as sad and desoBut suddenly hark Do you hear the clanking of

hour.

over the green sward. late as the

—

tomb.

!

those bolts, the crashing of the unclosing gates

The

gates creak slowly aside

!

—

let

?

us steal behind this cluster of pines*,

and gaze upon the inhabitants of the Monastery, as they come forth their

for

evening walk.

Three

figures issue

from the opened gates.

features and white hairs are

long robe of dark velvet.

thrown strongly

On

An

old man,

one arm leans a young

in black, her golden hair falling

— not

whose withered

into the fading light

in ringlets

—but

girl,

by

his

also dressed

in rich

masses,

to

She bends upon his arm, and with that living smile upon her lips, and in her eyes, looks up into his face. N On the other arm, a young man, whose form, swelling with the proud outlines of early manhood, is attired in a robe or gown, dark as his her shoulders.

father's, while his reflect the silent

bronzed

face,

shaded by curling brown

hair,

seems

to

thought written upon the old man's brow.

They pace slowly along the sod. Not a word is spoken. The old man raises his eyes, and lifts the square cap from his brow — look how !

beam plays along his brow, while the evening breeze tosses There is much suffering, many deep traces of the Past, white hairs.

that golden his

—

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON.

67

written on his wrinkled face, but the light of a wild enthusiasm

from his blue eyes.

#

The young man — his dark moves by

the old

The

that

girl,

man's

eyes, wildly glaring, fixed

the sod

image of maidenly grace, nurtured into beauty within an

armband looks smilingly

hair waving in the

Who

upon

speaks no word.

side, but

hour's journey of the city, and yet afar from the world, that aged

beams

still

bends over

into that withered face, her glossy

summer wind. com$ hither, pacing

are these, that

evening hour, along the

at the

moss ? The father and his children What means that deep, strange light, flashing not only from

wild

!

eyes of the father, but from the dark eyes of his son

Does

need a second glance

it

cism, that distortion of Faith

Religion

ity of

The ground

it

is

the light of Fanati-

?

in silence, while the

—

you, that

to tell

the wild glare of Superstition, that deform-

comes slowly down.

night

the leaves.

—

the blue

?

Still

young

the

Still

the Father and

Son pace

breeze freshens and makes low music

the

among

bending over the old man's arm, smiles

girl,

tenderly in his face, as though she would drive the sadness from his

brow

with one gleam of her mifd blue eyes.

At

last

gleam of

— within the"

the

shadows of the

setting sun

— the

gate, their faces lighted

man and

it%ot a strange yet beautiful picture

one dense mass of shade

;

last

girl.

The

1

old Monastery forms

on either side extends the darkening

yet here, within the portals of the gate, the three figures

forest,

are grouped,

while a warm, soft mass of tufted moss, spreads before them.

manhood

by the

son stand like figures of

his

hand of the young

stone, while each grasps a Is

old

The proud

of the son, contrasted with the white locks of the father, the

tender yet voluptuous beauty of the girl relieving the thought' and sad-

ness which glooms over each brow.

Hold— the Father presses the Do you hear thaulow

— hush " At

!

last, it

pers and

is

" But the

comes

to

my

wrist of his

Son with

deep whisper

soul; the Fulfilment of

silent again, but his lip trembles

time— Father— Me lime?"

the

voice, while his eye, dilating, fires with the

a convulsive

grasp

?

Prophecy

!"

he whis-

and his eye glares.

Son replies in the same deep same feeling that swells his

Father's heart.

"7%e last day of this liverer will come !"

year— the

third hour after

midnight— the De-

These words may seem lame and meaningless, when spoken again, but had you seen the look that kindled over the old man's face, his white hand raised above his head, had you heard his deep voice swelling through the silence of the

quivered from a

woods, each word would ring on your

spirit's tongue.

ear, as

though

it

— PAUL ARDENHEIM

G3

Then girl

man and

the old

— looking

his son

on the sod, while the young

knelt

wonder and

in their faces with

awe— sank

silently beside

*

them.

The

tones of Prayer broke upon the stillness of the darkening woods.

Tell us the meaning of this scene.

whose dark Monastery ? walls

in its

OR,

;

Wherefore

logs are clothed in green leaves,

Who

are these

— father, son and

call

— from

this

year of Grace,

the wilds of the Wissahikon, a

man

in the

in a long,

— 1774, —

daughter

?

Seventeen years ago

huge

this

edifice,

by the old-world name of that dwell with-

there

came

to

prime of mature manhood, clad

With whose golden by the other

dark robe, with a cross of silver gleaming on his breast.

one arm he gathered

to his heart a

smiling babe, a

little girl,

hair floated over his dark dress like sunshine over a pall

hand he led a dark-haired boy. His name, his origin, his object

no one knew

in the wilderness,

purchasing the ruined Block-House, which bore on

;

its

;

but

walls and timbers

marks of many an Indian fight, he shut himself out from all the world. The voice his daughter, grew up together in this wild solitude. of prayer was often heard, at dead of night, by the belated huntsman, the

His son,

swelling from the silence of the lonely house.

By slow upon

degrees, whether from the cross which the old stranger

his breast, or

in the walls of his forest

and

its

wore

from the sculptured images which had been seen with-

home, the place was called

—

the Monastery

occupant the Priest.

Had he been drawn from his among the titled and

enrolled

home by crime

native

Was

?

his name Germany ?

the great of his Father-land,

was one of those stern visionaries, the Pietists of Germany, who, lashed alike by Catholic and Protestant persecutors,

Or, perchance, he

brought

For

to the

wilds of Wissahikon their beautiful Fanaticism

that Fanaticism, professed

driven from

Germany, came here

and worshipped God, without It

by

was a wild

be, yet still full

Protestants of

Germany,

The Monastery,

in

its

as

was by

it

which the brothers of

Here the Brothers had dwelt,

in

one evening they gathered father,

who

built their

to

man.

as its

it

may

Persecuted by the it

still

symbol.

the faith lived for long years,

not a mile from the old Block-House.

the deep serenity of their

in

Monastery,

beautiful.

the Catholics of France,

law and the Cross

hill,

was

?

who, years before,

dreams of Alchemists,

the

God, and love

was situated on the brow of a

dying

Wissahikon,

to

a written creed,

belief, tinctured •with

of faith in

treasured the Bible as

until

a band of brothers,

their garden,

yielded his soul to

God

own

hearts,

around the form of

in their midst,

their

while the setting

sun and the calm silence of universal nature gave a strange grandeur the scene.

to

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON.

69

But it was not with this Brotherhood that the stranger of the BlockHouse held communion. His communion was with the dark-eyed son, who grew up, drinking

many

the fanaticism of his father, in

watch; with the golden-

a midnight

whose smile was wont

haired daughter,

drive the

to

gloom from

his brow,

the wearing anxiety from his heart.

Who

was

No

the stranger?

one knew.

The

farmer of the Wissa-

hikon had often seen his dark-robed form, passi% like a ghost under the

solemn pines

;

the

wandering huntsman had many a time, on

mid-

his

night ramble, heard the sounds of prayer breaking along the silence of the

woods from

the

the stranger

were wrapt

Block-House walls in

Would you know more

yet

:

still

the

life,

origin, objects of

impenetrable mystery. of his

life

Would you

?

penetrate the mystery

of this dim old Monastery, shadowed by the thickly-clustered oaks and

by

pines, shut out from the world

Would you know

the

old man, on the calm

Come

summer evening

with me, then

will enter the

the barrier of impenetrable forests

?

meaning of those strange words, uttered by the

—

at

midnight

1

— on

We

the last night of 1774.

Block-House together, and behold a scene, which, derived

from a tradition of the past,

well calculated to

is

thrill

the heart with

a deep awe.

midnight

It is

:

there

is

snow on

the ground

:

the leafless trees fling

their bared limbs against the cold blue of the starlit sky.

The heavy

old

Block-House

rises

dark and gloomy from the snow, with the

trees extending all around.

The wind sweeps through

the woods, not with a boisterous roar, but

the strange sad cadence of an organ,

whose notes swell away through

the

arches of a dim cathedral aisle.

Who

would dream that living beings tenanted this dark mansion, mass from the bed of snow, its huge timbers revealed various indistinct forms, by the cold clear light of the stars 1 Centred

arising in one black in

in the midst of the desolate

or like

woods,

some strange sepulchre,

in

it

looks like the abode of spirits,

which

the dead of long-past ages lie

entombed.

There

is

no foot-track on the winding road

smooth white surface

—

— the

snow

presents one

yet the gates are thrown wide open, as

coming of a welcome guest. Through this low, narrow door also flung wide open

if

ready

for the

—

corridor,

we

will enter the

In the centre of this room, illumined candles, sits the old silver cross

chair.

man,

—along

this

dark

Monastery. his slender

by the

light of

two

tall

white

form clad in dark velvet, with the

gleaming on his bosom, buried

in

the

cushions of an oaken

PAUL ARDENHEIM

70

His slender hands are

— while

laid

upon

;

OR,

knees— he sways slowly

his

his large blue eye, dilating with a wild stare, is

fixed

and

fro

upon

the

to

opposite wall.

Hush

!

Not

man, wrapped

word

a

—not

even the creaking of a footstep— for

this old

in his thoughts, sitting alone in the centre of this strangely

furnished room,

fills

us with involuntary reverence.

room ? Yes, circular in form, with a single doorway; huge panels of dafk oaken wainscot rise from the bared floor to the gloomy ceiling. Near the old man arises a white altar, on which the Strangely furnished

candles are placed,

its

down

spotless curtain floating

to the floor.

tween the candles, you behold a long, slender flagon of of laurel leaves, fresh gathered from the Wissahikon Bible,

bound

in velvet,

Behind the

altar,

silver, a

hills,

Be-

wreath

and a Holy

with antique clasps of gold.

gloomy and

sullen, as if struggling with

the

shadows

of the room, arises a cross of Iron.

On yonder

small fire-place, rude logs of oak and hickory send up their

mingled smoke and flame.

The

old

man

sits

there, his eyes

growing wilder

in their gaze every

upon the solitary door. Still he sways to and fro, and now his thin lips move, and a faint murmur fills the room. "He will come /" mutters the Priest of the Wissahikon, as common rumor named him. "At the third hour after midnight the Deliverer will moment,

come

fixed

.'"

Yet while the aged man

in the

Block-house, after weary years

thought, awaits the great end of his long vigil of Prayer, the

footsteps of his

son, and witness

scenes of novel

we

of

will follow

and absorbing

interest. It is

now

While the

the hour of twelve, on the Last Night of 1774.

guests are feasting in the farm-house and dancing the old year to his grave,

way of Blood, and Paul on his errand of Peace, moon rises higher in the cloudless sky, and bathes the winding gorge — the snowy hills the wilderness of leafless trees, in light, at once sad while Gilbert goes on his

the

—

and sepulchral. Yonder, on the summit of the broad Wissahikon,

we behold

hill,

which

rises

on the south of

a stone mansion, centred in a grove of

whose branches are bent with the weight of snow. Through these thickly-woven pines, the moonlight comes gleams

;

now

the level space in front of the hall

of silvery light, that

move

door

is

tall

pines,

in uncertain

alive with belts

hurriedly over the frozen snow, and again a

dense shadow broods around the mansion. Its outlines

some heathen the

are

wrapped

in

gloom.

Before the door, a fallen statue of

deity lies half covered in

snow;

whole place wears an aspect of desolation.

the shutters are closed;

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON.

71

Yet, from the circular tower which rises from the centre of the roof, a vivid ray flashes far over the der,

beyond

And ern

snow,

until

it is

lost in the brightness, yon-

the grove of pines.

while this light flashes from the tower of the mansion, on the south-

more than

of Wissahikon, on the opposite shore, not

hill

five

hun

dred yards away, another ray gleams from the leafless trees, and trembles

on the bosom of the Wissahikon.

Deep sunken between two high

hills,

an old house stands there, encir-

cled with dreary brushwood, with the trees gathered

and the shutters on

out upon the night, while the subdued echoes from

break

we

First

em

sudden intervals upon the Sabbath

at

Then

It

to the

it,

Van Behme,

the house of Isaac

is

its

secret chambers

stillness of the air.

gaze toward the grand old mansion, on the south

will turn our

hills.

thickly around

like the portals of a grave-

the closed shutters, that faint and wandering ray streams

Through

vault.

narrow windows closed

its

called Isaac the Wizard.

deserted house, sunken in the sombre hollow, on the north-

ern shore of Wissahikon, where walls cannot altogether

drown

the closed shutters and impenetrable

the sounds

which awake

the echoes of

its

gloomy chambers. Strange sounds, gloomy echoes

!

The

deserted house

looked upon

is

with superstitious fear, by the people of the hill-side and forest.

haunted thickets

ghosts are seen gliding through the shadows of

;

;

the Great Fiend himself

Years ago, when foreigner,

who

it

was

hikon It is

in

folks, in

sojourned awhile in the city, and spent his

was murdered by

So run

its cellar.

its

summer hours

very hearthstone,

the vague superstitions of the Wissa-

regard to the ruined house.

indeed haunted, but by Ghosts or by living Men,

come and

The Great whom men

Fiend, in truth, does often visit fear,

who

appear like

go, under the mantle of an impenetrable

armed with grotesque

its

mystery

?

walls, but not the Satan

terrors, formidable with

hoof and

tail.

That Fiend

is

tends from these

and only speaks of the Old

is

comes nightly to visit its chambers. home, the country residence of a

ghosts, and

horns and

It

encircling

a comfortable

beside the Wissahikon, a guest

and buried

its

Head of a Secret Organization, which exwoods of Wissahikon, over the continent of America,

the Invisible

to

hear

World and

its

the

mandates re-echoed bv the thousand Lodges

New.

PAUL ARDENHEIM

72

CHAPTER

OR,

;

SIXTH.

THE WIZARD'S DAUGHTER.

Before

the mirror stood a Maiden, gazing

upon

the reflected beauty of

her dark eyes, the reflected loveliness of her half-bared

bosom

— These

words may seem very abrupt and somewhat rude, but when you have taken in the entire details of the picture, you will agree with me, that it was a sight altogether interesting perchance beautiful.

—

it

was not an oval mirror, framed

in a

narrow rim of carved walnut,

Nor was

and placed upon an antique dressing-bureau. frame of showy its

gilt,

it

encircled

by

a

with golden flowers and golden Cupids strown about

brightness. It

was

by

a square mirror, framed

the dark paneling of the maiden's

chamber, and reaching from the ceiling Before

to the floor.

with the light shining on her forehead, and a robe of dark velvet

it,

left shoulder over her form, and flowing in folds by no means constrained or formal, stood a girl of eighteen years, whose eyes, and brows, and hair were all intensely black. Her complexion was brown, but a clear, rich brown, more beautiful to

flowing from her

For

look upon than the fairest blonde. cheek, and on her that

lips,

in

the centre of each swelling

through whose intervals her white teeth were seen,

brown complexion bloomed

The eyes were dark and

into the rosiest red.

very bright, but the half-closed

long lashes veiled their brightness, and subdued

lids

and the

dreamy languor. Her hair was turned aside from her forehead, and bound at the back of But part of it, not so much a her head, in a mass of glossy blackness. two or three

tress, as

floated

In her

left

it

trembled over

marked

from the cincture,

her bared shoulder look more white

its faultless outlines.

hand she held the lamp, while, with her

she clasped the mantle folds

into a

tresses linked together, escaping

down her cheek, and made

and beautiful, as

it

to

right

arm

bent,

her bosom, that mantle, whose loose-flowing

the outlines of her shape, and

left

her naked feet bare to

the light.

The showed

streamed warmly over her face, tinted her dark hair, and

light

a gleam of the white bosom, heaving beneath the golden fringe

of the black mantle.

That lids,

face

is full

and the parted

veiled in

a

dewy

of character. lips

;

It

speaks the soul.

the cheek glowing into

moisture

all

The

languid eye-

crimson, and the eye

speak of a warm, nay, a passionate

organization.

But the white forehead, rendered more

distinct in

eVery outline by the

|

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. black hair, tossed aside in glossy masses,

tells

73

of an intellectual

chance an ambitious organization.

Nor does

whose

the form,

bared

left

arm glows

softly in the

light,

with

its

fingers

seem

bust

round,

The ment,

ripen

to

means

is

velvety

is

a rosy radiance.

demands another mo The waist is slender, but by no

like a flower, that only

full,

perfect bloom.

into

it

warmed by

like transparent marble,

and

clear skin

round outlines, and tapers into the white hand, whose palm

whose

»

by the loosely flowing once decided and bewitching.

outlines are betrayed

folds of velvet, lack expression, at

The

— per-

.

lieved by the dark matting

The

or a wasp.

like the waist of a fashion-plate

on which they

rest,

small

feet, re-

harmonize with the hands,

and indicate, by their delicacy of outline, the voluptuous fulness of the maiden's form.

And

in the mirror,

framed

in the

ceiling to the floor, she beholds •

dark paneling, and reaching from the

that form,

and gazes in dreamy languor

upon the warm loveliness of her face. The room, in which she stands, may claim our passing glance.

It

is

square, paneled with dark wood, with a door in the south, a recess on the

window looking

north, a silvered

by the

rising

The dark wood

to the

over a waste of frozen snow, just

east,

moon. carved with

is

the faces of

nymphs,

fauns, satyrs,

cupids and devils, with here and there a mask, or a cluster of flowers, or a garland of leaves.

The

recess

veiled from our sight

is

look black in the candle-light, and

by curtains of purple

fall

tapestry, that

with their golden fringe upon the

floor.

The

floor is polished, until

it

resembles a mirror

;

the

dark matting

on which the maiden stands, an ^antique dressing-bureau, and two chairs,

cumbrous with carvings and embroidery, alone break the uniformity of

its

glittering surface.

The curtains now drawn

are

of

snowy

aside,

whiteness, which sometimes veil the window,

and the

moonlight comes

through the

narrow

panes, and shines in a line of light along the floor. Altogether,

it

is

a beautiful

wood, with a beautiful

girl

picture

standing in

;

its

this

room, paneled with

head, revealing another maiden, as lovely as herself, smiling

from the mirror, into whose brightness she

And of her

by

upon her

gazing.

loveliness, reflected in the mirror, the dead silence

is

image

broken

a sudden, sharp sound.

The is

is

as she stands there, surveying with voluptuous languor the

own

dark

centre, the light shining above her

mirror moves

thrown

—

deep recess

it

—

is visible,

The maiden

it

trembles like a smooth lake into which a pebble

passes slowly aside, and disappears within the panel.

where, but a

moment

A

since, the mirror 6hone.

trembles, she utters a sudden cry of terror, and sinks on

—

—

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

74 knees, the robe

lfcr

still

clasped to her bosorn, her unbound hair wav-

ing over her shoulders.

Her cheek becomes

No

as pale as death.

longer veiled in languid

downcast

moisture, no longer hidden under the

lid,

her eye dilates

flashes with terror.

There is a form in the recess— is it but an Apparition roused from the shadows of the Other World, or the form of a human being 1 The maiden raises her eyes for a moment the deathly paleness of her

—

face struggles with a rosy

bloom— and

then, blushing over her cheek, her

neck and her bosom, which pants suddenly face with a

With

into light, that flush fires her

warm, voluptuous beauty.

a gesture of involuntary joy, she raises her arms, and casts her

fallen tresses aside from her white shoulder

"The Monk of Wissahikon !" And once more, over the cheek, and brow, and bosom, she like a new-born summer morning.

blushes

CHAPTER SEVENTH. THE PHIAL OF ETERNAL YOUTH. same moment, in another apartment of the Wizard's mansion, was in progress. Let us leave the chamber of the maiden, and pass along the corridor, lighted by a hanging lamp, which reveals the wide stairway, descending

At

the

a far different scene

to the

ground

floor of the

whose panels break

mansion, and also shines upon the narrow door,

the uniformity of the

oaken wainscot.

That narrow

door conceals the confined staircase leading upward into the tower, on

summit of

the

The lamp,

the mansion.

or rather lantern, hangs from the ceiling, right above the

wide stairway, and throws but a faint light over its windings while it glows brightly on the narrow door. A step is heard, like the subdued and stealthy tread of an armed man, and presently

we

slowly ascends

— and

discern a figure in the darkness of the stairway in a

moment,

Morgan, shadowed by a look of sullen

He one

—

it

the light discloses the face of Gilbert ferocity.

leans against the railings of the stairway, and bends his head to

side, in the attitude of

one

who

listens intently for the faintest

sound

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. One

on the stairway, and one on the corridor, railing, while his left hand, dropped

foot

mahogany

the

75

his right

arm

at his side,

on

rests

grasps the

unsheathed hunting-knife. as he listens, the light discloses that almost gigantic form, enveloped in the blue hunting-shirt, which, leaving the throat bare, falls to the

And

brown face— thrown into bold stairway— works in every nerve, as with

knees, edged with white fur, while the

by

relief

the darkness

of the

the impulse of plunder and carnage.

He

listens

— but

—

lips

compressed, eyes shadowed by the down-drawn brows

all is still.

One

toward the door of the maid-

step, stealthy as a panther's tread,

all silent, not His bent head touches the dark panels Then, underneath the swinging lantern he a sound meets his ear. stands again, and his face is covered by a dark mask, which, tied around

en's chamber.

;

the forehead, reaches to the mouth, and leaves only the lower part of the

proaches the narrow door,

the knife in his right hand, he ap-

With

visage exposed to the light.

lifts

the latch, and places his foot

upon

the

step of the dark staircase.

first

The sound

of voices, rendered faint

by

distance, breaks indistinctly

Without a word he enters the door, and

his ears.

cends the stairway. ceiling is so low, that

The he

in

walls touch his shoulders on either side is

on

the darkness as;

the

foreed to bend his head upon his breast, as

he ascends.

Those words become more

distinct,

and

after

twenty steps are passed,

a ray of light streams through the intervals of a curtain, and glimmers

out upon the blackness of the stairway.

That the

curtain supplies the place of a door, and separates the haunt of

Wizard from

Gilbert

As

tain.

the staircase.

on the topmost step

is

;

the ray flashes over his

knife in hand he approaches the cur-

masked

face,

he stealthily advances,

and looks within. "

It is

the appointed time !"

The rude hands

to

hunter, bent on

his veins, at the It

sound of

must be confessed,

chilled with

A

a deed of violence,

an act of midnight plunder,

awe

felt

swayed by

invisible

a superstitious thrill pervade

that voice.

that the

scene which he beheld, might have

a stouter heart, a bolder brain than his.

small lamp, glittering like polished silver, hung by a chain from the

dome-like ceiling, and cast a pure and spiritual light over the place. It

was a circular room, not more than twenty

walls were characters.

feet in diameter.

covers, and silver clasps, bore the traces of a venerable age. side,

hung

The

hung with parchments, inscribed with Hebrew and Arabic A recess* was filled with massive volumes, whose dusty a skeleton, the white skull

\

and hollow

orbits

On

one

glaring in the

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

76

Not

clear light.

far

removed, a shapeless mass, enveloped

cloth, tattered with age,

That shapeless mass was once

wall.

ago,

and covered with

it

the soil of the

'trod

battle, or

may

it

;

the

a thousand years

World, perchance a warrior armed

for

an Indian

Mummy, exhumed

from a mound

western prairies.

far

was

It

It is

a living soul

of some forgotten creed, with the knife of

be, a Priest

hand.

sacrifice in his

on the

New

brown

in a

dust, stood erect against

in the centre of the

room, whose walls were crowded with

strange and contrasted details, that a picture of

some

was

interest

dis-

closed by the rays of the hanging lamp.

An

man

old

shone from

gown, whose loose

black

a

in

bent over a corse, a knife in his hand, while his blue eyes

He was

his withered face with a wild unearthly light.

concealed

folds

of

outlines

the

clad his

shrunken limbs.

The

corse, extended

on a board which rested on

tressels,

was

half-con-

which swept in careless folds from the waist to But the broad chest, the sinewy throat, the dark-red visage, the feet. were bare the face, wrinkled by age, wore, even in death, a look of iron cealed

by

a white cloth,

;

defiance.

was

It

the dead

body of

the Chief,

Yoconok.

Opposite the old man, crouching on the

man, known

Black David, was

as

floor, the figure

of the deformed

Resting his cheek upon his

visible.

hand, he gazed upon him steadily, his eyes almost hidden by the thick

With

meshes of

his long hair.

beard and

hair,

looked

some Demon, summoned by

his

like

unholy

" It

is

ceaseless

my is

toil

—

beneath

cell

I

am

David

to aid in

about

to

behold the great result of the

me

on yonder

When

liquid

the gift 6f an intelligent soul.

its

Rise, David.

Watch

is

in

to

Thou

the hour-

sands are run, the dead will rise

become a young and vigorous man

Black David rose, and, gliding Its

The

But thou canst not comprehend me, body hideously deformed, has not sup-

manly beauty with

shelf.

eyes.

life.

with thy brute strength.

cold image of clay

my

those priceless drops, every one of which

nature, in giving thee a

canst but aid

again,

Wizard

For twenty-one years, by night and house, I have watched for the moment

this

this phial contains

;

plied the lack of

glass.

the dark

of twenty-one years.

worth an hundred years of

David

by

laughter, Black

the craft of the

the liquid of immortal life should greet

hand

glass

that pale face, encircled

half-suppressed

task.

the appointed time.

day, in the

when

quivering with

— this

!"

upon the hourThen, sinking upon the floor

the recess, glanced

sands were well nigh run.

he placed his face within his hands, and observed the old man,

with an unvarying gaze. It

face,

was wonderful

to

mark

the energy

and shone without ceasing,

which lighted up

in the clear

blue

eyes.

that withered It

was

the

— t

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON.

77

energy of a mistaken but sincere enthusiasm, the resolution of a Fanati-

cism nursed into unnatural vigor by the delusions of a long "

He

shall rise

Young and

!

instruments of

his youth, the unfailing

dead, changed death into plain and palpable.

beautiful, I will

my

make

life.

of his beauty and

When I have raised the my great task become

will.

then will the rest of

life,

First, the

dead must be raised, then baser metals

may

So read the lessons of the sages, so speak they all, from Apollonius of Tryana down to Paracelsus and Agrippa !" What will you do with gold " sneered Black Gold ? Ho ho be transmuted into gold.

—

—

!

"

David, as he looked steadily into the old man's face.

you've one foot in the grave already, and 'tother

— o-o-h

I

!

see

— you

want

it

your

for

is

coffin !"

" Poor wretch !" muttered Isaac in a tone of deep pity

But

the language of the world.

great design.

When

am

I

I

of a long

toil

the face wrinkled, the heart chilled

— shall

and young manhood sparkling

life

—

my

hand upon the frowning brow of

" Dost say 'un will

and vacant dead

—see

"

stare.

come

No

!

to life

It ain't

the dead

my

cold lips,

the limbs shrunken,

start into being,

in his

Eh

— " He speaks

with hope in

eyes !"

Black David drew near the corse, while Isaac was speaking his

Master, it.

will use him as an instrument in

dead, he will apply the liquid to

and the old man, withered by the

his veins,

Why,

slippin' arter

;

he

laid

man.

again?" he said, with an

possible, Master

Behme

!

idiotic smile

He

be stone

!"

Gilbert, from his place of concealment, beheld the

naked arm of the Indian

— sway

carelessly to and fro

it

Deformed

lift

the

— and then dash

it

with some violence upon his broad chest.

The

hunter trembled from head

to

foot,

not so

much with

fear of the

Wizard, as with a sensation of creeping awe, which chilled his veins, whenever he saw the cold gleam of the hunchback's eyes. But, trembling from head to foot, he placed the knife in his belt again,

and

in the darkness, felt the

" That

ar' cripple's

lock of his pistol.

a born devil

made of!" he muttered

— "He

;

but as for Isaac,

I'll

see

what he's

must'nt cut any of his shines over the !" Ingin's dead carcase, while I'm about "

Do

not touch the

Back from the

The

ment. this

corse,

dead—" I

He knife,

is

Isaac with an energetic gesture

I make the last experiwhen you will have to do a deed like you may call your Master back to life,

time will come, David,

— mark me, therefore, so

when he

said

say, and watch while

that

dead,"

bent over the corse, holding in one hand the scalpel, or dissecting-

while in the other he grasped a small glass phial.

Black David approached, and watched him with great earnestness, his face lengthening with an expression of vacant wonder, most ludicrous to behold.

—

—

PAUL ARDENHEIM

78

Master—" he drawled

" Y-a-a-s,

The

"

—

"

born devil !" muttered Gilbert, behind the curtain

bound he plays old Isaac some cursed Jist look

older.

— and

lickin'

When

"

OR,

;

sees !"

I

at his face

—

as simple as

moment

the

name

is

come, David,

God — which

of

which has been

lost to the

pour a drop of

mark

ye,

charm

it

the

describe a Cross

will

I

and the

"

Even

wound, made by the

Cross, which

gone.

man

old

the side

falls to

it

cut into

is

is

in

face, as

was young

I

my

eye.

I

home amid thronging,

Behme die

the

is

without power." twisting his fingers in the

— In

once

at

lips, kills

— so

will this

— kills dead

moments, David, you

it

a few

ere the

poured on the

liquid,

the flesh with the knife, bring the

will see

to life,

done

siood contemplating the slender phial, which was

A

with a colorless and transparent liquid. "

I

Yet,

knife.

into the very centre of the Cross, else

elixir

as prussic acid, applied to the

ere a second

over his

the name

thousands of years,

for

his hair.

that applied

The

—thus

Pronouncing

— pronouncing

mass of mankind

"Then, Master—" mumbled Black David,

hand

good

a school-boy arter a

High Priest of the Jews uttered but

this liquid into the

must be poured

in vain,

meshes of

be

I'll

yet the very Devil's in them eyes !"

once a year, and that in the Holy of Holies

will

—"

many minutes

trick before he's

with the point of the knife, on the breast of the dead man. the awful

I

look of strange sadness came

he muttered an incoherent soliloquy

my

;

step firm,

my eye

!"

tilled

bright

;

:

youth

loved; there was a wife, a child in

my

my

in

home.

veins,

A

hope

gorgeous

where the proud and beautiful came homage to the wealthy commoner. Isaac Van owner of millions. Ah, I was afraid that I might

the hills of Yorkshire, to

^s

pay

their

then the

— bei^athered to

a cold vault, and leave

my

wealth

yearning desire sprung up within me, and changed indeed, born again.

To

live

forever on the earth

create gold at will, from the baser metals

— to

to others.

my

— to

nature.

fear

be immortal

Then I

no decay

a

was,

—

to

at once, in the

—

My wife died I cared not. That one depower of youth and in gold became the great passion of my being. I interrogated the Past wrung knowledge from the writings of the ancient seers I grappled with Death itself, and besought the answer to my question, In what part of ?' the human frame does the Principle of Life make its dwelling !

—

sire

—

'

"Nay— I after

tracked the dark avenues of the gold mine, and sought day

day, year after year, to look upon the Great Laboratory of Nature,

and learn the process, by which she turns base lead and copper into gold.

The end

of

my

toil is

near.

valley, shall soon go forth again into

once more the comrade of Kings of a crown upon her brows !"

With

his large blue

;

The

old

man, hidden

the great world

his child

;

may perchance

eye fixed upon the slender

phial,

in this lonely

he shall become feel the

weight

he paced along

— —

—

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. gown

the floor, the

floating loosely

around his shrunken limbs, while the

lamp shone warmly upon

clear rays of the

As he paced

79

his venerable hair.

absorbed in his wild fanaticism, Black David,

along,

crouching near the corse with his face resting between his hands, looked up, from beneath his bushy eyebrows, laughing

all

over his colorless face,

as he muttered " Fool

Would he might

!

gain his wish, and

know

has no curse so horrible, as the blessing he desires

at once, that hell

eternal

life

on earth,

gold without end." Gilbert

every withered line

There was an overwhelming as the eyes

;

shone

he gazed upon

rude heart, as

a strange pity melt his

felt

the old man's face.

in

deep clear

on

desire, written

light,

and the

grew

lips

tremulous, the hunter heard him whisper without ceasing these words

Youth-Gold Gold- Youth Youth— Gold !" And so the withered Fanatic paced the floor of

«

!

!

the strange room,

grasping, in those two words, the great desire of the whole world

mankind, while, crouching like an embodied scorn, near his

David muttered " Death

his

Sleep

!

answering echo Sleep

!

his sneering face there

!

To

as

knee.

I

would give

I

die

and

to forget !"

and over

came an expression of unutterable anguish.

in

all

of

Black

:

— death

Isaac paced the day — " he murmured, these woods, saw sence — " To-day, ther's

feet,

floor,

" To-

unconscious of his pre-

dead upon

a child lie

the gold in the universe,

all

the

its

Mo-

life

in

eternity, to be that child !"

The face of the Deformed expressed the very intensity of despair. The time draws near. In a moment it will be here. David, rise take the dead man by the arms. It will need all your strength to restrain him, in the dread moment when he uncloses his eyes, and feels "

that

he lives again."

Black David, standing

by

at the

head of the corse, grasped

the wrists, and with head bent, and the tangled

face,

seemed

"

How

"

Have

to

I

commands

await the

know

dost

not read

its

bony arms

hair falling over his

of the enthusiast.

'un will rise ?" he muttered suddenly. it

in their

works

— the venerable Seers of the Ages ?"

exclaimed Isaac, pointing with a tremulous hand toward the recess " Yea the Dead have come to me, and spoken of the Great Secret, with

—

their livid lips."

He shook

paused, and stood motionless beside

the corse, while a

"Yes— He

has appeared

the Fallen Angels

!

to me, he, most sad and yet terrible of all His pale forehead, seared with the mark of eternal

anguish, his hair streaming in waves of lurid light,

again

tremor

his frame.

I

hear his voice.

dead will come

to lifer

'

"

1

see him

now

In the first moments of the new-born year, the

"

PAUL ARDENHEIM

80

Why

did Black David's distorted frame

winter wind

the

in

head

his

drooped

is

?

;

—a

time

quiver like a withered reed

We

cannot read the expression of his face, for the matted hair falls around it like a lion's mane.

How much money

"

OR,

;

hast spent, Master

very, very long time.

Twenty-one years

?

— a long — eh

has swallowed a world of gold

It

?

Master ?"

Have you not watched

"

beneath the house

with an unsparing hand Y-e-s

«*

"When

I

my

it

began

this

wealth

— you

pour the gold in the alembic,

at a time.

It

looks beautiful like, and clinks

was worth millions Now the last well, honest David is concealed in beyond yonder curtain, in the darkness, at the

search

which

lies

head of the stairway.

It

the small chest,

me

the round gold, the yellow gold, the sunshiny gold !"

so pleasant like

wreck of

seen

—

Handfuls on

!

the Sacred Fire, burning for ever, in the cell

You have

?

I

know

!

—

it

only a thousand doubloons

is

— only a

thou-

sand."

Black David raised his

and looked toward the curtain.

face,

upon him, and, with a

the glance of his eyes resting

felt

Gilbert

fear

that

he

could not master, saw the half-suppressed laughter of that mocking face. " At the head o' the stairs it,

for

It's

!

well, master, that no bad

— they might even rob you of your

The

old

man

did not

seem

men know

gold.''''

hear the last words, but they thrilled an

to

Gilbert's ear, as his extended foot rested

upon

the

oaken chest,

in

which

the doubloons were concealed.

sands are run !"

The

"

and

clear

ringing in

—

Isaac's

voice,

quivering

with enthusiasm,

emphasis, broke on the ears of the listening

its

hunter.

" Behold

With corse

the

;

started

The

!

Thus' I describe the cross upon the dead man's heart

the point of the knife,

wound was

he

laid

open the

flesh

A

form of a cross.

in the

!"

on the chest of the

single drop of blood

from the point where the transverse gashes met. old

man

raised the phial

rays of the hanging lamp.

A

;

it

glittered

above his head, in the clear

wild joy quivered over his face, agitating

every feature, and shining brightly in his clear blue eyes. "

It is

thus,

O

the time.

The

labors of a

Masters of the Divine Art,

darkest and most powerful of

mands

all

I

Thus,

are about to be repaid.

life

follow your teachings

the

Fallen Host,

I

—

thus,

O

obey your com-

!"

His right arm shook with an unceasing tremor, as he held the phial in the light, high over his grey hairs.

The

corse lay

stiff

and cold before him, with the figure of the De-

formed, bending like an Apparition over

its

face

;

the gash in the

form

of a cross, glowed vividly in the light, with the solitary drop glittering like a blood-red tear.

t

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. "

With

this liquid

—only a —

single drop, poured on the blood-drop in

Dead

I call the

the centre of the cross

pronounced a Hebrew word

He

81

;

to Life

it

was

V

that

name which we

call

Jehovah. Bending over the dead, he raised the phial in the light, and gazed inupon its transparent liquid, his narrow chest swelling* with a joy

tently

too deep for words. «

"

Thus

sharp report was heard.

A.

from a serene sky. trance to the

place,

crashed on the silence, like thunder

It

Through the curtain folds, which guarded the ena volume of blue smoke floated, like a veil of trans-

parent gauze.

The hand all

of the

Wizard was

still

upraised, but his

eye glared with

the despair of a soul forever lost.

The

For the hand was empty.

phial

was gone.

Fragments of

shat-

tered glass strewed the floor.

"

The Monk

While

of Wissahikon !"

that blush

like the first

—reddening over cheek and bosom and brow—glowed

pure glimpse of a new-born

summer

day, the Maiden raised

her dark eyes, and gazed upon the form which

where

the mirror

The

occupied the

recess,

had glistened only a moment before. on his dark dress, he stood there, like some

silver cross glittering

sad and beautiful image of his olive cheek, as, with

Memory,

head

the

brown

slightly bent,

hair falling aside from

he turned the

light of his full

eyes upon the maiden's glowing face.

"I come

to

save

you— your

father's life is in

danger"

— the

words

rose to his lips, but he could not speak them.

He

could only gaze upon that beautiful face, and feel the light of those

brilliant

eyes shining into his own.

He

heard the low musical voice, but could not distinguish the words which it spoke. Only its music melted on his ear.

For the

first

time, the delirium of passion seized his soul

cation of voluptuous

madness burned

He could not advance, he could not recede absorbed which blushed before him, he stood in the recess, with upon the face of the young girl. ;

And

she, with her

arms

form, as though about to

fall,

;

the intoxi-

in his veins.

half-raised, her

in the .loveliness

his gaze centred

loose robe trembling on her

could only return his gaze, and feel the

fire

of his eyes flashing into her soul.

The light which swung from the ceiling, tinting the dim old tapestry with mild radiance, shone clearly over the dark robe of the maiden, glowed upon the waves of her black hair, and revealed the figure of the young man, framed

in the recess,

and thrown into view by the darkness beyond. 6

—

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

82

At tion

he advanced

last

— he stepped

— his

senses whirling in an indescribable intoxica-

from the recess, and his

face,

glowing through

olive

its

hues, with the red blush of passion, appeared distinctly in the light, with

brown

the

And arms

hair tossed aside from the forehead.

with that step

like a

With

—he paused—looked

man who

upon her

— and

extended his

shrinks back from the verge of a dizzy

cliff.

the loose robe waving around her form, she sank on her knees,

clasped her hands, and while her lustrous eyes shone their passion into

which melted

his face, she exclaimed in that voice,

upon "

in strange

melody

his ears

You have come Paul started

He

dream.

!"

could not believe that

kneeling at his

feet,

comes her Lover

He

—

"

the intensity of a

murmur,

as

that beautiful girl,

reality

and whispering

You have come fire in

new

—

who

a Bride

like

wel-

!"

and hid his burning forehead

tottered to a chair,

There was

some bewildering

entangled in

was a

it

tossing her hair back from her shoulders, raising to

his gaze her voluptuous face,

hands.

He was

at the sight.

His ears were

existence.

in his clasped

His brain seemed

his veins.

to

throb with

with a lulling

filled

though the voices of Angels had mingled with the echo of a

distant waterfall.

« Paul !"

He fingers

He

upon

he

;

felt

then a hand

warm

the pressure of soft,

his forehead.

She was

raised his eyes.

der, that soft,

warm hand

by

there, kneeling

floating over her robe, her face upturned,

And

And

heard the voice, but dared not raise his head.

trembled among the locks of his hair

side, her hair

his

one arm resting upon

his shoul-

pressed against his brow.

again, raising her lustrous eyes, she

murmured

name

his

" Paid!"

There was some strange mystery in this scene. It confused, it beThis young girl,— whose cheek flushed with passion through the intervals of her dark hair, whose large eyes grew dim with moisture beneath the fringed lids,— kneeling by his side, looking into his face, winding her arm about his neck, her fingers trembling among the wildered him.

brown locks about "

his

forehead

You know my name

it

with

fired his veins

new madness.

?" he wildly gasped.

" Yes," she murmured, " the Voice whispered

it

to

me."

And

with

that look of boundless passion, she panted at his side.

"

The Voice

it

Y es — the

times by day,

!"

Voice that speaks after I

It told

me

to

have prayed of your

all

is still.

me

look for you To-Night

!"

in my dreams. God— sometimes

me to

coming— it spoke

of

I

hear

it

some-

by night, when your Love it bade

—

THET

MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON.

83

uttered with a child-like faith, and yet with the

These words,

tremu-

lous accent of passion, completed the bewilderment of Paul Ardenheim.

"

Do

dream ?" he exclaimed

I

—" You

the

young

my

soul with light

girl

— and

hand touched

his

that are so beautiful

— you,

that

speak

me

to

the forehead of

—you, whose

in tones that

dark eyes

madden

fill

—you,

whose very touch thrills me with a mad delight You speak my name, Oh, it is some dangerous you tell me that you looked for my coming dream it is the work of an Evil Angel, who would peril my soul !" And, darting from the chair, he fled affrighted from that beautiful girl. !

!

—

As he

by the window, gazing out. into the wintry night— the

stands

waste of snow, silvered by the rising moon, sparkles before him

young

girl,

kneeling where he

now crimsoned with blushes and wet with tears. How shall we explain the mystery of this scene ? The young girl has been reared from childhood in sion, her

her

friend,

whose mind

no temptation

to

some

;

man-

only companion, that old man,

her

She has

never mingled in the loves and hatreds

Like a wild flower, blushing into

of the great world. bling wall of

^ this isolated

bewildered by the Fanaticism of a Past Age.

is

been exposed

instructor,

— the

covers with her hands that face,

left her,

life

old ruin, she has blossomed, she has

on the crum-

bloomed

in soli-

tary loveliness.

Yet wherefore

madness

this

of passion, this child-like

tenderness,

impetuous love, with which she welcomes an unknown man, she beholds for the first time ! this

We may

whom

not pierce the Mystery now, nor unravel a single thread of

the strange secret, and yet, as

we gaze upon

the scene,

its

peculiar beauty

strikes our hearts.

Here we have a woman, blooming

into the ripeness of her loveliness,

and a man, whose eye indicates a strong fests the

while his form mani-

intellect,

grace and vigor of y^oung manhood.

Reared alike

these silent woods

in

—

afar

formed amid scenes of the same character bronzed face and eyes of strange power,

from the world— their souls

—

young man, with the

this

young

girl, so blooming with every hue of loveliness, so flowing with every line of voluptuous beauty,

have met

And

for the first time.

yet their meeting has

all

the intoxication of a Passion, ries as dear as

The

Heaven

tears rained

more tumultuous started

this

from the

the transport of a long-indulged love, all

which

is

hallowed by thoughts and memo-

!

while her young bosom rose with a and her face grew crimson with blushes, she and reached his side, with a proud and passionate

from her eyes

;

throb,

floor,

step.

"

It

hand.

was

false,

"You

love

then ?"

me

not.

She touched

You

his shoulder lightly with her

never thought of

me

?"

— !

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

84

He

heard the voice,

He

shook his frame.

the hand, and a tremor

felt

dared not turn his head, and gaze into her face. It is

"And

madness I

Only

!

loved you

—

a dream, from

God knows how

which

how

deep,

soon awake ! H

I will

my love!

absorbing was

In the daytime

I

thought of you, and pictured your form, and saw your

face,

wherever

I

turned

still,

and the Voice broke through the

breathing your

name

With

You

And

!

s^ky,

silence, telling

me

love

O,

not

—

when

O, at night,

at night,

my

me

all

was

of your love,

became mad, wild,

love

which gleams before

us, so beautiful with its

the Voice has spoken falsely !"

hand quivering on

that small

ing a strange

eyes

every word

at

boundless as the great countless stars.

my

his shoulder, its

very touch

thrill-

through his veins, he heard her voice, breaking in im-

lire

But he

petuous accents upon the stillness of the midnight chamber.

His heart was too

couft not answer.

full,

his brain too

crowded with

conflicting emotions.

He

dared not even turn to look upon her face again.

" If

I

look upon her

Lost!

Lost

to

I

am

God and

lost

!"

Lost to Purity,

Lost

to

all

those serene

—

Thoughts which dwelt on the Majesty of the star-lit heavens the tenderthe divine beauty of sunrise and sunset those ness of a Sister's Love

—

—

Thoughts which ascended from a full heart, to the Great Father of all the World, and even as they arose, became Prayer. Lost to all that was spiritual and ideal, in the mad agonies of sensual passion.

"

Lady"

— he

said, not daring to

ing breath on his cheek

intoxicating dream.

some

your touch

my

before

fills

eyes

my

—

look upon her, though he

—" Forgive I

am

me,

as

O,

her pant-

felt

one bewildered in

affrighted at the beauty of

your face

But there

woven

—

is

a mist

together, in

though the hand*)f death was there

!

my

Forgive

away from her extended hand " forgive and pity To look into your face you, without adoration. upon cannot look tottered

I

like

a sound as of voices and echoes,

—m y heart swells me, lady" —he is to

am

veins with an agony of delight.

ears

For

for I

forget

how

my God

!"

bloomed on her cheek again, and the soft languor of She gazed upon his averted face, her red her eyes

the roses

passion shone in

!

bosom throbbing above snowy wave, encircled by

lips parting like a severed rose-bud, her

the glit-

tering fringe of her black robe, like a

rays of

golden

light.

Then, on her white forehead, from the crescent-shaped brows to the roots of her hair, a single vein, slender and serpentine, swelled distinctly into light, and darkened, without distorting, the transparent skin. That sinuous vein, so light as to be scarcely perceptible, seemed to indi-

cate the resistless Will of

of Pride and Passion.

an organization, which combined the extremes

— THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. "You shoulder

me

love

ske gasped

!"

— "You love me !"

—her

hand

And with

her

85

gently laid upon his arm she dashed her long

still

left

hair aside from the bare shoulder.

—

Love you ?" echoed Paul " There is a love which I feel when I gaze upon my sister's face. A Love as serene as the midnight stars, O, it is not shining over yon waste of coldly glittering snow. But you ? "

—

—

No It is as though it is not intoxication. it is not enchantment you had stolen from me every impulse of my own Will had said to me, *Thou canst not move, save where my will permits nor breathe, save in the light of my eyes nor live, save by my side, and in my arms V Love you?" his voice sunk into a whisper "I dare not turn and gaze into love

!

;

—

—

your

face, lest I

But he did his every

—

my God !"

should blaspheme

As though an

and gaze.

turn'

irresistible influence

swayed

motion, he turned, and beheld her panting before him, her

limbs trembling beneath the robe, while her bared arms gathered

it

to

her passionate breast. It

seemed

to

him

though a golden mist floated

as

in

waves about her

form, as she stood there, with those large eyes flashing amid their tears,

while the dark hair, waving

deur

to the

You

"

love

" Not love

"You

love

" Pity

me

You

"

her shoulders, gave an indescribable gran-

to

white forehead, seamed by that darkly swelling vein.

me me

—

love

And she came toward him, with I am mad"

I"

—no— no

and her white arms were upon his shoulder.

!"

me

pity

me

a gliding motion.

!

!"

—

for the

was

sionate lips, as he felt her

sake of God, do not peril

my

soul."

her exclamation, breathed through her pas-

still

arms around

his neck, her

form quivering upon

his breast.

And

her cheek was against his own, and over his arms and shoulders

her unbound hair streamed, in waves of jetty blackness.

His brain reeled round him in

—

the antique room, with

its

quaint wainscot, floated

—

phantom of some unearthly dream from head every nerve he trembled like a dying man. But still her arms were about his neck, still she panted on his

her

like the

warm bosom

rising,

from

its

sable veil, in

to foot,

breast,

passionate jfirobs, while

her breath mingled with his own, as their lips trembled together.

There was a moment which seemed an Eternity to him ; not an Eternity of calm rapture, but of passionate tumult, of voluptuous madness. It

was when her eyes shone

their

deep brightness into his own,

when

and breath were one, when, trembling in her embrace, he felt his consciousness gliding from him, in a languor that stole upon his senses, like

lip

some enchanter's

spell.

Enchanter's spell sorcery of a

blossom into new

What

!

first kiss,

from

life at

spell like the

magnetism of a

lips that cling as

the touch?

first

love, the

they touch your own, and

what wizard-craft so maddening

in its

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

86

power

your own,

ing throb "

bosom,

as the pressure of a

closer to

You

that throbs benfiath

your heart hears

until

it,

its veil,

and throbs

and echoes with an answer-

?

love

virgin form

me

was

The Voice was

!

not false !" and the burden of that

in his arms, the wild beauty of

that face

glowed

in burn-

ing blushes beneath his gaze.

"Yes tones,

—

love— love beyond the power of words !" he exclaimed in broken and his eyes answered her with a gaze as passionate as her own.

But even as she clung

on

brow

his

— saw at

warm

— while a

a glance

Saw

round, white arms.

wound

him, he

to

he held her from him, and

hands around her wrists,

his

frown gathered

sudden darkness

in

her heaving breast, her naked

the face,

whose brown hues were

vermilion on the cheek and on the

lip,

feet,

her

lighted with

while the languor of

dewy

eyes came through the meshes of her streaming hair. " O, beautiful " he gasped, his voice sinking 0, fairer than a dream

—

—

into a whisper, his eyes moist with passion.

At that moment a crash "

It is

a knell !" cried

like thunder

Paul—" The

rung through the old mansion. knell of

my

lost soul !"

As he spoke he withdrew his hands from her wrists of a madman, he dashed her arms from his grasp and ;

;

with the gesture

tottered

backward,

gazing vacantly into her face.

She trembled

for a

strown over the

moment — grew

floor,

pale and

Her long

fell.

black hair,

with the golden fringe of her mantle glittering

against the transparent whiteness of her shoulders.

She lay there like a dead woman, pale and unconscious, the blood from the wound upon her brow, a wound which she received, as

starting

her sudden

And

fall

dashed her head against the

yonder, hurrying from the room,

boiling like molten fire in every vein his head bent

on

his breast, as he flies

—

floor.

mad

with passion, the blood

yonder, behold Paul Ardenheim,

from the beautiful woman, as from

a fiend.

He

does not seek the shadow of the recess.

No

!

Without turning

his head, without one backward look, he grasps the door in the southern

wall

—

it

yiefts at his touch

— he

is

in the corridor,

with the light of the

lamp, which shines there, glowing over his brow.

But

as his foot is

delirium,

when

in a veil of

face, a

on the

first

step,

even in the moment of passionate

the face, the form of the beautiful

misty

light,

he

is

girl, floats

before

him

conscious of the presence of a far different

widely contrasted form.

Black David stands beside him, folding his white hands upon his breast, while his head is bowed, and his face is hidden by the uneven locks of his matted hair.

" Black David was wrong, Master Paul," he mumbles in an idiotic tone, with his great eyes wearing a vacant

look—" There's never

a robber

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. Master Paul,

if

dream

in a

Black David heard the voices

in the wizard's house. give,

87 for-

;

Black David was foolish—"

came from the lips of Paul. He looked in the face of man, as though he saw him not he dashed his hand aside, and plunged down the stairs with a madman's step. As his face glowed into the light, ere it passed into the darkness, Black David saw it distorted by a convulsive emotion as his step was

No

reply

the deformed

;

;

David also heard his incoherent cry and the clear sky for me for I am in the

heard in the hall beneath, Black

"Air

air

!

The

!

free air,

:

—

Power of the Evil One, within these walls !" The echo of the voice and the footstep died away, yet Black David upon

stood at the head of the stairway, leaning his arms

its

and

railing,

gazing silently into the darkness beneath.

His face

makes

his hair, which,

;

the outlines of his large head

the lamp, but lips,

by its tangled locks, seem yet more massive, is tinted by features, nor mark the expression of his

turned from the light

is

we cannot

see his

nor read the meaning of his eyes.

And yet

his

—

form trembles

or with laughter

it

quivers like a falling leaf

—with agony?

?

" Isaac lies insensible on the floor beside the corse, and, even in

The

unconsciousness, clutches at the broken glass. blighted

;

Paul goes from the wizard's house, flushed

his heart broken.

with agony, and shrieking for

and with

it,

light, for air

!

The

wizard's gold

Huntsman. And the bosom who, reared by the

Gilbert, the bold

—

dark eyes and stainless

his

man's hopes are

old

fair

is

daughter,

man from

old

gone,

— with child-

hood, in this mansion, treasures in her virgin-soul certain vague images of the Future, certain glen of Wissahikon

warm

—what

creature to look upon.

warm

her

imaginings of the great world beyond the of the beautiful girl

So queenly her

step, so

?

She

is

so beautiful the gloss of her dark hair, as

lip,

shoulders white as snow

!

Very

beautiful,

indeed a

fair

impetuous her glance, so

and yet the

it

over

floats

light of

her eyes,

from darkness, brings to mind Catherine Queen of Past Ages, who ruled France, with the Poison-

their very brightness, flashing

De

Medicis, the

Phial for a sceptre !"

Once more

the

form of the hunchback shook

like a falling leaf, as

he

leaned over the railing and looked into the darkness below.

A

pale face

was

raised from the floor, and eyes glassy and vacant in

head spotted with blood, she breast, as

she hurried to and

rose,

and clutched the dark mantle

fro, like

her hair with an involuntary grasp, face and back

With her

Maiden's chamber.

their gaze, glared in the light of the

one bereft of reason,

now

tossing

it

madly

now

fore-

to

her

clutching

aside from her

from her shoulders.

There was a

terrible

beauty in the sight.

A

lovely

woman, with

her

!

PAUL ARDENHEIM;

86

OR,

white forehead stained with blood, her hair dishevelled, and her robe disordered in every loosened fold, striding, with an impetuous step and flashing eye, over the floor of that silent and

"

He

does not love me.

was

It

false, that

gloomy chamber. Voice which whispered

his

name to my ear, told me to wait his coming, and yield my lip to his kiss Not love, but scorn ah !" She uttered a cry of terror, as the hand

—

which she raised

to

her forehead was wet with blood.

The mark of the hand which dashed me to the floor !" She pressed her clasped hands over that slowly bleeding wound, and stood before the mirror, which had glided to its place again. " Blood, too

am

" I

!

not lovely

hideous to

all

— no, no, no

other eyes

He

!

beautiful girl, who has not dwelt shut out from the world !"

And, tossing

to

and

Hideous

!

his

to

eyes, as I will be

has seen a fairer form, and loved some her

all

life

alone

from very childhood,

;

her hands on her forehead, her bosom swelling

fro,

under the white arms, she looked madly into the mirror, and saw the reflection of her trembling form, her lips

compressed, her face pale with

agony.

At

moment, while she

this

dumb and

is

her conflicting emotions, a Voice startles the silence of the

"

You

—

deathlike with the violence of

seems

to

break from the air-

chamber.

You have

have seen him, Maiden.

wild, unearthly

that

seen Paul

" Seen him," she answered, as though speaking to

her side—" Seen him, and he has dashed " But he^ loves you, maiden—" " Loves

Witness

!

!" there

this bleeding

me

some person by

at his feet, in

scorn !"

mark upon my brow. Love /" come again, and kneel at your

" Loves you, to madness, and will

and bathe them with his

She was

was a

music in that voice.

With her

silent.

feet,

tears !"

" Will seal his love with a

fingers

vow

on her tremulous

in the sight of

great world.

this lonely valley into the

lip,

she listened.

God, and lead you from

The unknown Maiden

of the

Wissahikon may become the courted and flattered Lady of some royal court, with a queenly robe upon her form, the eyes of the great, the noble, centred on her beautiful face."

But

Still silent.

in her

eyes the tears were dried, and from her

tremor has passed. " And he will triumph with you, and ascend with you heights of rank and power. in his ears,

his

and

all

men

How

dizzy

Yet, even, while the praises of a world ring

hasten to scatter gold and laurels in his way,

deepest joy will be thy kiss,

embrace

the

lip the

O

Maiden, his only heaven in thy

!"

the

full

glowed through

eyes shot forth a sudden the rich

brown

light,

of that velvet cheek

and the warm blood !

—

"

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. "

He

will

" Thine to

speak

The

Thine only, and forever.!" said the voice— which seemed air and all was still.

!

at

light

89

— be mine

—

her side, from the

shone over the chamber, glowing upon

its

antique furniture,

glittering on the mirror, over the floor, and tinting the quaint carvings on

the wall, until the

oaken flowers bloom

like

life.

Her mantle of black velvet, Through the white cur-

But the Maiden does not meet our eyes. fringed with gold, lies neglected

moonlight

tains the

lamp, and

steals,

all is silent

Would you behold

on the

and mingles

in the

floor.

rays with the faint light of the

its

Wizard's mansion.

the passionate girl,

the mirror, convulsed with the

who, not long ago, stood before love, repulsed by scorn ?

agony of a

Yonder, through the dark hangings of the bed, turn your gaze, and behold a gush of light trembling over that face, sunken deep into the silken pillow, with black hair floating all around it; a face closed, while the lips are parted,

treasured

whose

are

lids

murmuring, even in slumber, some

name

» Paul !"

The

dim ray

lantern shines over the corridor, and flings a

darkness of the stairway.

Black David

is

no longer here

;

into the

the place

is

gloomy and desolate. But there is a footstep on the narrow staircase, leading from the Wizard's tower the small door springs open and Isaac Van Behme .

;

appears in the

;

his

light,

face deathly pale, his

sockets, with the glare of apathetic despair.

eyes dilating in their

His slender form

is

still

enveloped in the loose gown, and, with his head bent on his breast, he

from the door, toward the descending stairway.

totters

In a

moment he

is

gone

into darkness

;

gone without a word, his hands

clenched on his breast, his white hair hanging in tangled masses over his

wrinkled brow.

With

a footstep that has no echo, he descends the stairs, and presently

stands in the darkness of the spacious hall, on the ground floor.

He

does not pause a moment, but, opening a door in the side of the

staircase,

he descends, without a light

to

show

the way, into the vault be-

neath his mansion.

Along a dark passage he passes with that uncertain impenetrable gloom, extends his hand

;

a door opens

;

step,

and

in the

the vaulted arch

is

bathed in sudden light.

He

enters

that chamber, or vault,

Twenty-One Years. his

own

has crossed

Through

the

which has witnessed

his

toil

for

In that period, no footstep save Black David's and its

threshold.

gloom of

that

wide

vault,

whose stone archway

is

sup-

PAUL ARDENHEIM

90

;

OR,

ported by four massive pillars, struggles a pale and blueish flame, which

whole scene with a funereal

invests the

That flame shines not

glare.

from a hanging lamp, but through an aperture in the surface of the white

which

altar,

It is

two

an

rises in the centre of the space

altar

in width, with

pillars.

more than

three feet high,

a small door in one side.

That white form,

rising

from the stone

gushing from the aperture in

whose massive

the vault,

between the

of marble, an oblong square, not

floor,

with a pale blueish

surface, alone breaks the stern

its

and heavy

ceiling

pillars

strike

light

gloom of

the soul with a

sensation of vague awe.

This

is

the Wizard's

most secret

cell. t

his art, ters,

There are no

indications of

no grinning skulls, nor parchments, darkened by strange charac-

nor alembics, crucibles, or other details of Astrology or Alchemy.

The pure

flame, shining in a flood of tremulous light, from the top of

the white altar, glowing like a spiritual presence through the gloom, alone indicates the old man's

He

toil,

his earnest search of

stands beside the altar,

all

fested in the contortions of his

thin hands clenched,

Twenty-One Years.

the anguish of his blighted hope

withered face.

mani-

Silent, motionless,

his

and his head bowed on his breast, he gazes on the

flame, and

its pale light glows on his vacant eyes. There are no words to picture the despair of that old man's heart. The brown sailor, gazing on the wreck of that ship, which has been his home, in calm and storm, for half a century the renowned general, suddenly disgraced into a prisoner, and standing amid the bodies of his ;

mangled comrades the father looking into the dead eyes of a beloved daughter— these all are subdued by agony that is too deep for utterance But the despair of the Alchemist was deeper than all these or tears. ;

woes, though linked in one convulsive throb.

He

beheld not the wreck of a home, or the slaughter of an army, or

the solitary death of a daughter, at once beloved and beautiful, but an

mortal Life palpitated

— almost

on

its

The Thought

While thus he

of a

life

into the

into nothingness,

Im-

even as he

Shattered with the

and sprinkled the

floor

brittle -phial,

with the priceless

Youth. stood, absorbed in his despair, his blue eyes glowing in

was blasphemous. He drew from the

A

swept

was dead.

in his grasp,

the light of the flame, there

the flame.

— was

threshold.

which had broken liquid of Eternal

achieved

came

to his

soul

a thought as sudden as

folds of his dress a pacquet,

it

which he extended over

stream of sand, or white dust, descended from the pacquet,

aperture.'

And

as

feathery columns over the

it fell,

altar,

a luminous

and

float

smoke began

to

wind

in

through the gloom, in waves

of rolling mist. It

wound over

the old

man's white

hairs, encircled his form,

and ere an

:

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. had passed,

instant

with a cloud of perfumed

the dreary vault

filled

91

vapor.

From M

bosom of

the

Even

that cloud his voice

as the seers of the old

was heard

wisdom, bewildered by the clouds of

communion with

their physical existence, sought to gain

Spirits of

the

the Invisible World, though at the peril of their deathless souls, so do

the

name

of the Seven Fallen Angels,

— who once stood

of Eternity, bathing their wings in the light that never dies

darkest and most powerful of the Seven

my

beneath

feet

communicable

—

I

pray no longer

Name

— "but

to

—"

— invoke

the

The Cross

!

is

he muttered the awful and

Ashtaroth,

to

Behold

!

in

I,

by the Throne

in-

the Prince of the Fallen !"

With these words were murmured the mystic formula of the ancient Cabalists

— those Prophets

ration alike from

man

of the old

of the far-gone ages,

Good and

Evil, from

who

God and

derived their inspi-

Satan

— and

as the voice

echoed, clear and deep, through the vault, the smoke-

clouds swept aside from his face, and

on the brow, and burning

showed

the dauntless Will, written

in the eyes.

There was a pause, and, stricken with sudden

terror,

he

fell

on his

knees, as though a strong arm had dashed him to the floor. " I

am

here," answered a sad, low-toned voice.

Before the

altar,

by clouds of undulating mist, appeared a

encircled

The

face of wild, unearthly beauty.

pale features, invested with a lurid

were seen amid a mass of dark hair, waving in snake-like locks, and with a red glow glimmering through its intervals. The eyes were large and dazzling in their unchanging brightness. The lips wore a light,

smile of undefinable meaning

The

forehead was

wide and

;

now

lofty,

it

was tenderness, and now scorn.

growing wider as

arose, in an out-

it

was white as a corse. That face, seen amid the clouds which floated to and fro, seemed like the face of a dead man, with an unnatural life just flashing into its eyes. line of swelling boldness

;

the skin

There was a mark upon the forehead in hideous distinctness

"

Thou

here *

!

gone

his hands, as

brow

—"

I

— the

what wouldest thou ask ?" of my life-long toil—" shrieked

fruit

obeyed thy commands.

to

floor, the

Ashtaroth

is

this

Water of Life— the

when

cold

dew

Isaac, wringing

starting

from his

For twenty-one years, night and day,

burned within

fire

place the

breast of the dead,

,

clay,

he grovelled on the

without ceasing, the

was about

which blackened

a livid cross,

hast invoked the most powerful of the Seven.

Poor child of

It is

;

on the death-like brow.

altar, atid

the phial crumbled in

—

this

result of all

my

grasp,

my

very night, toil

— on

and— my

I

the

toil is

become old for naught in vain this \rain racked by the agony of eternal fever— in vain this withered form, in vain these wrinkles, which have gathered while my task wore on in vain these grey hairs, which only tell how near that Grave, without a hope V

in vain

!

I

have

—

"

'

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

92

" The Water of Eternal Youth, for which thou didst seek, in the long dream of a life-time, has been wasted by thee wasted as the dead was

—

about to feel

influence VI

its

"

Not wasted hand dashed the

"And

No

!

By

!

phial from

for that

the despair

my

grasp

priceless liquid

—

which

— wasted

labor twenty-one years, every year a century

"Dark Angel, it is not may have done this deed It

my

was

utterable boon.

deed.

I

whole

unseen

— thou

didst

circle of years,

to taunt

me

with

my

Your hand

ruin.

"

saw

demanded, ere thou wilt be worthy of

is

Man

the First

Look

!

wert not yet worthy of the un-

that thou

trial

which

Twenty-one years

you

for

Another

the Forbidden Fruit, "

the

An

!

moment

a

in ;

—no

!

an Eternity

"

I feel

at these

and

Woman

grey hairs

sought

to

grasp."

Ere twenty-one

!

" hours are past, I will be dead. Dead And the Hereafter " Thou shalt not die. Nor is a trial of a life-time asked of thee. !

—

No

intense study, no brain-cankering toil no anxious watch by night, and Before the rising of another sun thou maddening thoughts by day mayst raise the Dead, and from his lips gain the knowledge of the great secret, which transmutes all base metals into Gold.'" " Speak Ashtaroth and I will worship thee !" " Within this altar, warmed by the fire that never dies, still is conceal!

—

—

ed the Sacred

" I

It is

there

created the

Urn 1" now as

it

has been for twenty-one years.

" Pour into that a tempted but

still

Urn

a single drop of blood,

stainless maiden,

once more will greet your eyes. throbs with the last pang of

life

is

too horrible

—

« Dost thou talk of crime it

its

bosom,

it

?

takes

demands

What

the heart of

must be taken from a heart

It

it

warm from

and the Water of Eternal Youth

—from a heart

impulse of the soul, fluttering ere " But this

Within

Water of Eternal Youth."

a

its

that

that quivers with the last

flight."

A

Murder.

crime

"

crime hast thou not committed

?

Is

for thee to hesitate ?"

Have I been unkind, even in thought, to my only child ? Crime my hand ever been closed at the call of suffering, the prayer of " houseless misery ? Of what crime do you accuse me " It is not for me to accuse. But woe to thee, sad and mistaken man, The crime of all woe to thee, when the Hour of Judgment comes crimes will be laid to thy soul, the blasphemy of daring to be Immortal The Unpardonable Sin is on thy head it will weigh thee down, in the fathomless anguish of an Eternity of Crime !" "

!

Has

!

!

:

"

A

single drop of blood,

stainless

maiden, and

of boundless gold."

lo

!

warm from

the

the heart of a tempted- but

Water of Life

is

mine.

Mine

still

the secret

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. "

Listen Thine before the dawn of another day a pure virgin struggles in the Tempter's arms

form, throbbing with the last pulse of

"I obey

Then,

I

!

in a

obey

at this

Hasten, ere

low whisper,

While

life,

to her side, and from her snatch the priceless boon !"

!"

that pale face, seen

half-luminous and transparent, tongue.

!

and dishonored thing, hasten

a tainted

is

Even

!

!

moment she

93

his face

was

murmured

dimly among misty clouds,

the syllables of an

distorted and his form

unknown

cramped by the

vio-

Van Behme bent hishead on his woven brow, gazed into the lurid

lence of preter natural emotions, Isaac breast, and,

from the shadows of his

visage of the

Unknown.

Those words, spoken in the mysterious tongue of the Cabalists and Magi of the ancient ages, thrilled on the listener's ear. He heard them with a shudder, and then a dark cloud rushed upon the scene, and Isaac fell forward on his face, unconscious and motionless as a dead man. "When he again unclosed his eyes, the pure spiritual light shone calmly through the aperture in the summit of the altar, and glowed upon the massive pillars, the gloomy arch, the floor of solid stone. But the mist had rolled away, and with it, the Unknown Face had passed into nothingness.

The maiden," he murmured, as a cold shudder shook his stiffened The maiden whom I met to-night by the forest fire, weeping over the dead body of Yoconok !" He hurried from the vault. The door closed behind him, with a sud"

limbs, "

den

Along the dark passage, with unsteady steps he hastened, and,

jar.

ascending the stairway, soon reached the hall on the ground the light shining feebly from the second story, over

As he hurried

to the door,

its

"

It

is

but the poor brainless hunchback !" he exclaimed

A

!

with

he missed his footing, and stumbled over a

dark form, which lay crouching near the stairway.

beside the door, too

floor,

gloom.

faithful

knave

—

" Sleeping

!"

And, stepping gently over Black David's form, he opened the door, and passed forth into the clear, cold moonlight.

No

sooner had his footsteps died on the

to his feet,

Softly,

and hurried up the

on

tiptoe,

air,

than the Deformed started

stairs.

and with a gliding footstep, he approached the door

of the Maiden's chamber, and bent his head close to the dark panels.

There was no sound

;

she slept on her virgin bed, with her face sunken

in the silken pillows.

Black David opened the door without a word,

and passed the threshold of

that sacred retreat.

The lamp, swinging from dreamy light. With the same noiseless

the ceiling, invested the place with a soft,

luxurious,

step, the

hunchback approached

the bed,

and

—

—

PAUL ARDENHEIM

94

OR,

;

winding the tapestry about his uncouth form, looked glowing on one cheek with the dim It

was a strong

ing from

its

contrast.

huge forehead

in

within, his face

light.

That pale face, with the tangled hair floatuneven locks, down to the matted beard

;

and the glowing countenance

of

slumbering

the

girl,

who

rested her

cheek upon her bent arm, while the dark fringes of her closed

warm

the

beauty of her parting

lips,

wandered

complexion, as her black hair

new

gave a

unbound

in

lids,

and

loveliness to her olive tresses over the

silken pillow.

And, like some Demon, watching, with flaming eyes and

livid lip, curv-

ing in scorn, the slumber of an Angel, Black David stood in the folds of

and looked upon the sleeping

the faded hangings,

" She

name

Who

her lover.

of

tender, all that in her face,

loving,

is

So,

—

fair

it

and

could not that

is

predict her future

— swells

to the roots of

is

—upon her — almost im-

Yet hold

her hair, a slender vein

from the clear skin, and quivers like a serpent there

beautiful, a similar fate

All that

?

virgin in voluptuous beauty, centres

was many hundred years ago

What was her curtain,

all

and marks each outline of her form.

brow, from the eyes perceptible

girl.

very beautiful, and in her dreamy sleep, she murmurs the

is

?

—

It

and lay bare that

upon

the

brow of woman,

!

as

dark vein swelled through the stainless skin.

seems but yesterday terrible

Memory.

;

the ages roll back like a

What

shall be the Fate of

Through the clouds of the Future I behold it, and see the serpent, which now darkens on her forehead, glide into her heart, and drop its venom from her rosy lips " It is enough to force a smile, the folly of these cowled Mummers, who picture the Enemy of Mankind in a grotesque shape ha ha

this

sleeping girl

?

!

—

with hoof and horns, and all the details of a puerile fancy. " No one could be deceived by a Devil so pitiable as that

who

!

— not

!

—

even

him thus " But a Devil that comes panting on your senses from a white bosom; that fires you with the that kisses you with warm, voluptuous lips the Priests

paint

!

;

.

brightness of

who

eyes languid with passion

wears, on her

" Fear Satan at

and pray

for

fair all

;

a beautiful Devil altogether,

brow, a single black and serpent-like vein

times, brave Paul of Ardenheim, but kneel to God,

mercy, when he comes

While the crazed hunchback low, melodious voice, the young

to

" Mine, and mine only !"

in a shape like this !"

uttered these incoherent words, in his girl, in

arms over her bosom, and murmured, desire

you

her slumber, clasped her white

in a voice languid with passionate

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON.

95

CHAPTER EIGHTH. B. H. A. C.

On

Wissahikon shore, where,

a rock, beside the

in

the summer-time,

on without a ripple, wider and deeper in its tranquil now, as it nears the Schuylkill, stood Gilbert, the Hunter, bending upon his rifle, it

glides

with his eyes cast upon the waves, which looked black and dreary, as they swept onward, amid white masses of

ice, glittering in

the rising

moon. It

was

sailing there, in the pure winter sky,

a broad

which sank

hill,

to

its

cold light shining over

the shore, "mantled with frozen snow, and

sparkling like a sheet of undulating silver, as the dark forests girdled

on every This

it

side.

hill

rose before

Wissahikon

to the

him

to the south,

ascending from the ice-cumbered

dreary woods, over whose leafless branches shone the

transparent sky.

Behind him was a wall of brushwood, and trees,

which towered suddenly

a precipitous

mass of

forest

into the heavens, with the forms of gi-

gantic rocks thrust here and there from the dark branches.

And from

the

gloom

in the east, the

she flows by the snow-mantled

hills

;

Wissahikon comes

and into the gloom

glittering as

in the

passes as suddenly, 'her echo breaking in a low, monotonous far

—redoubled by the

along the woods

west she

murmur,

craggy rocks— and rising, in

soft-

ened music, into the sky.

There

is

a ray gleaming from the pine trees on the southern hill

;

it is

the light from the Wizard's tower.

From

the

gloom

at the hunter's

answering ray trembles

forth,

back

—he stands

facing the south,

and dies upon the waters.

It is

— an

the light

stealing from the closed shutters of the deserted house.

0, it is beautiful to stand thus alone, at dead of night, on the Wissahikon shore beneath your feet a rock which, thousands of years ago, ;

was

by the footsteps of some dark-cheeked Indian maid, by the white robes of the Sacrificial Priest, who raised his hands to yonder sky, to yonder moon, and, in the deep silence of a midnight universe, uttered a Prayer to God, in a tongue, now lost in the lightly pressed

or swept

chaos of the centuries. It

is

beautiful, in the

ment

summer-time, when the broad

hill

of tufted grass, and the world of foliage bends

wears a gar-

leaves and blossoms into the calm waters, while the distant cry of a night-bird mingles with the unceasing chirp of the katy-did, and the soft voice of Wis-

sahikon.

its

PAUL ARDENHEIM;

06

OR,

But now, in Winter, and at midnight too, when the breathless stillness —deepened rather than broken by the monotonous murmur of the waves dashing against the ice awes every throb of your heart into a solemnity which is Religion, while the eye beholds only that great vault of transpa-

—

moon

rent azure, arching over the leafless woods, with the

gliding

away

and flinging a blessing on your forehead as she glides

in cloudless light,

in winter, at midnight, that the glen of Wissahikon is a holy which the Angels might come as to a temple, and breathe their pity for the Crimes of Man, and raise their hymns of thankfulness to God. Are you sick of the World ? Do the crimes of the Great City wear it is

place, to

your soul

like an iron fang into

that

drunken with

is

cious with a

blasphemy

to

God

Great City, come

Whose

in

into hideous birth,

Man

fero-

Man,

Come,

forth.

the world

forget

;

the Slave, and be full of Peace,

an hour, by the Wissahikon Waters.

for

For, by the Wissahikon, at dead of Night,

when there moon in a

you grow nearer

your God, and

to

feel

snow upon

is

the ground, and ice upon the waves, and a clear

'

is

to

bosom, the Plagues of Mo-

foul

— come, and forget

the anguish, the blood and tears of

though but

your heart but a curse

to

streets of the

from that clouded atmosphere,

Death swelter

panorama of wealth,

the great

?

Then, from the crowded ral

seem

sullen endurance,

its

Does

?

boundless sensuality, and Poverty, that

its

cloudless sky,

your heart reach out

its

arms

to

grasp Eternity.

Then, is,

with Peace that

filled

such a

in all the world,

unutterable,

is

you even forget

that there

on the Universe as a Man, ground

libel

into

dust by the footstep of a Brother

But hold

my

crowd

you, of

still

me

that

of his

full

I

talk too

dumb

waters and serene skies,

for the Rich,

now and

my

Be

friends.

all night, if it^please

—but never

tell

us that

and only Graves and Gibbets

merciful to me,

me

it

my

you sneer very

feet, will

For myself, inflicted

For

has not been

my feet. Will you forgive me, my Teacher's face, the iron

taught to

And when

?

the

flint

of the rough road cuts

bitterly, if I but dare to

I will be silent.

Not

a

moan

?

word of orphanage, and wrongs

by godly hands not a whisper. wrongs of those who have suffered ;

the

sand pangs, where

I felt

go, dragging their

weary

less too

silken People.

The world

then, I dare to fling back into

lesson which

No.

it

speak, I have learned in a bitter school.

I

But

of suffering man, and

Talk

— they say

a very soft road, sprinkled with roses, to if,

much

anguish.

Poor.

Pardon me,

what

tell

Banks and Churches

there are for the

they

;

pages too

one,

— the

feet, to

like

me, and endured

anguish of those miserable graves

who

— shall

suffer

a thou-

now, and

they be voice-

?

Not while

the good

God

gives to

me

the strength to grasp this

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. mine

friend of

—

this

well-worn pen, which has cut a

— no

the granite wall of poverty and orphanage

97

way even through

Not while

!

the Father

Redeemer of the Poor, permits one throb one word to quiver from my tongue.

of the Fatherless, the at

my

heart,

For I

am

I

am

want one flower

I

word like this " Here moulders the hand In

of

bloom upon

to

my

some Poor Man, who can

planted by the hand of

name

When

Ambitious with a wild, insane ambition.

ambitious.

dead,

to pulsate

that dared to write

grave

bless

;

my

that flower

ashes with a

one brave word

in the

Man."

my

crude"

way

of thinking, there

by

that solitary flower, planted

something more beautiful

is

Poor Man's hand, than

a

in a

in

marble

monument, built by a King, in Westminster Abbey, over some dead Conqueror, whose hallowed epitaph bears words like these "He slew, in a hundred battles, at least one hundred thousand of his Brothers."

But

this

midnight scene of Wissahikon, hallowed by

snow and moonlit sky, has won me from Leaning on his

The

waters.

moonlight, glowing on his face, revealed the look of tender

sadness which, for a moment, softened the rock,

which jutted from

bank

the

Beneath the

hardy

a brass padlock,

wreck of the Wizard's. wealth, was hidden. " There's a turnin' pint in every man's on the waves

his eyes fixed

eddy, near that chunk of

—

"

ice,

And

He

features. its

stood on

hard surface,

and bound with

that box, the wealth, or rather a

of

lid

its

one foot resting on

;

by

the other on a square box, secured intricate cords.

life

stainless

history.

gazed sadly into the dark

Gilbert, the Hunter,

rifle,

this

my

the thread of

life,"

muttered Gilbert, with

that ar' twig quivers in the

jist as

as if unsartin

which way

my

so

to go,

quivered this night."

Associating his

own

destiny with the fate of the withered twig, which

trembled in the eddy created by the waves dashing against a block of

watched

the middle of the stream, Gilbert

its

ice, in

course with involuntary

in-

terest.

" It trimbles tow'rd the channel on the a little

whirlpool

— so

the quiet channel,

It

!

curses on

it

tosses in the whirlpool

The

By

!

—

there,

it is

it

left,

where

the

turns to the right It

!

goes to the

eddy grows ;

it

left,

into

swims along after all

—

it

safe !"

hunter's face glowed with unfeigned pleasure, his breast heaved

with a deep respiration. " That

'ill

be the

which channel after all.

way

to take,

But no

!

with

and

By

my

tossin' !

life.

Quiverin' for a moment, unsartin

on the waves, only

to

go safely onward,

the twig snaps in pieces, and scatters

the waters, in broken fragments !"

7

on

— PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

98

Do

not smile,

when you

from his forehead.

dew

see the cold

For by a

superstition,

standing in beaded drops

common

phecy of

So

14

bold

'ill

be with

Well

— well!

me

Tossed on the waves only

!

had married Mad'lin'

If I

his rifle to his shoulder,

enemy was

" That's what

my

bullet for every

wild

all

to

be bruk to

would have been

life

past,

and took deliberate aim, as though

standing on the opposite shore. life 'ill

" the

be

man who

rifle

dropped by his side again

has gold, which

bullet or a knife, a shot or a stab

is

with

tightened the lips, and drew the brows over the flashing eyes.

line,

a mortal

A

life,

the twig as a Pro-

expression darkened over his brown face, which distorted every

"Now'" He raised

"

own

now"

but

An

his

his destiny.

it

pieces! right,

humblest and

to the

most exalted natures, he had associated the Future of the course of some trifling thing, and taken the fate of

And

!

I

of one like me, into somethin' quiet and

and

I

must go where

I

am

would

have

like to

;

a

Mad'lin' might ha' turned the full

But

of Peace.

it

led."

Turning from the rock, with the box under one arm, and his good rifle on his shoulder, Gilbert entered the shadows of the brushwood, and pursued the windings, of a foot-path, which led far into the gloom of the dense forest, now passing through some open space, silvered by moonlight,

in

in

and again

lost in the

maze of

giant trees.

emerging from a thicket of briars and brushwood, interwoven one almost impassable wall, Gilbert beheld the old house, deep sunken the glen between two high hills.

At

It

last,

was

a two-storied structure, built of dark grey stone, with four win-

dows on its front, whose shutters were closed. Before the door, on whose dingy panels the moon shone brightly, a huge stone, worn smooth Around by the pressure of many feet, supplied the place of a step. The stony ground was covered it the prospect was wild and desolate. with withered brushwood, even to the walls, and the front of the edifice alone was visible, in that wilderness of giant trees.

The

evergreen pine stretched

its

branches over the roof, mingled with

The scyamore, wjth its moon from the darkness of the

the leafless limbs of the chesnut and the oak.

white trunk, glared out in the light of the

woods.

Behind the deserted mansion, the

hill

rose suddenly,

its

summit smoke

seen through the trees above the chimney, which sent a volume of into the sky.

Altogether, that house, rude and

sented a sight of position, in trees

interest,

monotonous

from

its

in its architecture, pre-

very desolation, and

the hollow of the glen, encircled on every side

of the

trunks.

some

forest,

its

by

peculiar the great

with brushwood spreading darkly between

their

THE MONK OF THE WISSAKIKON.

99

Gilbert advanced through the space in front of the edifice,

moonlight shone

paused still,

by "

a

for

On

in clear radiance.

where

inclining his head toward the panels.

moment,

the

the stone before the door, he

All

was

yet a confused sound, like the songs and shouts of a revel, drowned

came ever and again

thick walls,

The

at

sudden intervals

to his ear.

dream what kind o' ghosts haunt this here old house !" he said, with a smile upon his sunburnt face. Then, with his hand clenched, he knocked thrice upon the door, folks of

Wisseyhik'n

little

and heard the echoes dying away within, as through the arches of

a

corridor.

The door was opened, and utter darkness

;

Gilbert passed the threshold, and heard the

He

was suddenly closed behind him.

hinges grate, as the door

stood in

not a ray of light shone into the intense night of the

place.

The word ?" said a rough voice. "Death .'" answered Gilbert, in his accustomed " What would you here ?" "

"I would

enter the

tone.

Lodge of the B. H. A. C," replied the Hunter. C, you will know the way. Advance and

"If you are a true B. H. A.

Word

give the explanation to the

Through

When

footsteps. his hand,

!"

the midnight gloom, Gilbert advanced, counting his

and

felt

the panels of another door.

He knocked

each knock rising above the other, and a circle of light the

darkness.

It

measured

he had measured ten paces from the door, he extended

was

a

warm

ture in the door, and flinging a

light,

faint

four times,

shone through

shining through a circular aper-

glow over the place

in

which he

stood.

By

that uncertain light,

small apartment, the

it

might be ascertained that he had entered a walls, and uncovered floor,

monotony of whose bare

was only broken by a dimly-defined figure near Gilbert's side. The Hunter applied his lips to the circular aperture in the door, and whispered these words :

"

to the

As he spoke, like

Rich!" the door opened, and in a

moment, Gilbert stood

room, lighted by a lamp which hung from the

the dark hangings, the floor strown with sand. the door, and leaning

from head

On "

its

A

in a cell-

and revealed

single chair stood near

high back, a veiled figure appeared, shrouded

foot in a dark robe, with a

cowl drooping over the face. cowl which concealed the face, two letters were ingolden embroidery " B. H. A. C." to

that part of the

scribed in

on

ceiling,

Your name

—

?" a deep voice exclaimed, speaking from the folds of the

monkish cowl. " Gilbert Morgan, a Brother of the Rifle Lodge,

B. H. A. C."

Number

256, of the

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

100

Word

" Give the

and

its

explanation, so that

I

may know you

for a

Brother." 44

Death— to

44

It is

way

the

Rich /"

Clothe yourself with appropriate Regalia, and work your

well.

Lodge.

into the

Placing his

rifle

The door

on the

floor,

is

before you."

and with

ard's gold, Gilbert lifted the dark curtain

it

the box, containing the

which concealed

Wiz-

the walls, and

took from a recess, or closet, a collar of scarlet velvet, edged with gold

and with a dagger emblazoned on one

lace,

side, a skull

and cross-bones

on the other.

He

placed

of the

same

around his neck, and then took from the closet an apron

it

material, also edged with gold, but with the letters, B.

C, embroidered

in the centre.

He

secured

ending in a tassel of gold, and thus arrayed

H. A.

round his waist by a cord,

it

in the Regalia of the Order,

whose narrow panels appeared among the sombre hangings of the room. The box was under his left arm, the rifle on his shoulder, as he knocked five times, with a pause between each sound. Who comes there ?" a voice was heard speaking through a square advanced toward

a door,

44

aperture in the centre of the door. "

4

Brother of the Knightly Degree,' " answered Gilbert, in the tone

A

who repeats some carefully remembered The word of the Knightly Degree ?"

of one 44

444 44

44

" answered Gilbert.

FJfe'

To whom To

444

formula.

?"

Poor!' "

the

Enter, Brother Knight of the B. H. A. C.," exclaimed the voice,

which was heard through the circular aperture

And after

ere a

moment had

in the door.

passed, Gilbert, passing the door, which closed

him, found himself encircled by the details of a scene of peculiar

interest. It

mid

was a large room, with a lofty ceiling, and a dim light quivering in The high walls were hung with dark cloth, on which was em,

air.

blazoned various

and symbols, some of the most grotesque, others

letters

of the most impressive character.

At the eastern end of the room, rose a platform, attainable by three

wide steps, covered with dark cloth.

was seated There was a

On man

this platform

a

almost regal splendor.

glittering

—a

scarlet robe

upon

in luxurious folds

cross-bones. letters,

The

a

crown upon

his forehead

his form, drooping from his shoulders to his feet,

— and

blazoned on one side

was placed

of muscular form, attired in

chair or throne, in which

on

his breast a collar of

witli the dagger,

black

veil

dark purple velvet, em-

on the other with the skull and

which concealed

his face bore the golden

B. H. A. C.

This was the Worthy Master of the Rifle Lodge, No. 256, of the B.

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. H. A. C.

His purple

101

Right Venerable or

collar indicated the

Priestly-

degree.

Opposite

this platform, in the

western extremity of the Lodge, was a

smaller platform, rising two steps above the floor, with an oaken chair

Here was seated a figure, veiled in a light-blue robe, gleaming with emblems, on his breast, and a coronal His face, covered by a veil of silver leaves entwined about his brow. of black cloth, with spaces for the eyes, also bore the letters, B. H. A. C. This was the Honorable Warden of the Lodge, clad in the regalia of

upon

its

summit.

with a scarlet

collar,

the Venerable or Knightly Degree.

And between

the

Warden and

men, every face covered with a

the Master, veil,

were seated some hundred

every form bearing the regalia of

the order, either the white scarf of an Initiate, or the scarlet collar of a

In the dim light, the effect of

Knight, or the purple insignia of a Priest. this scene

The

was

floor

at

once solemn and dazzling.

was of dark wood, polished

appeared a large

star, inserted

like a mirror.

in the polished

wood, and

In

its

centre,

glittering like

burnished gold.

To

this

the

star Gilbert

Then,

feet.

advanced, and placed the box and the

raising his clasped hands above his head,

Worthy Master, who slowly

rifle

at his

he bowed before

imitated the gesture, after

which Gilbert

spread forth his arms, with the fingers of each hand extended and separate

from each other.

" Right, Brother !" a voice sounded from beneath the Master's veil.

The Hunter, luted

him with

Then,

lifting

turning on his heel, faced the

same sign. the box and

Worthy Warden, and

sa-

the

the rifle from the floor, he took his

seat

among

the veiled brethren, covering his face with a veil similar to the

others,

which was extended to him by plume waving from

robe, with a dark

Worthy Herald of the Lodge. "Let the rite of Initiation begin!"

a figure clad in a shapeless black

his shrouded forehead.

This was

the

low

said the

Worthy Master,

in a hol-

voice, which, evidently

assumed, echoed through the spacious room, with a strange and unnatural emphasis.

And from

the dark hangings near the

Warden's Platform, the Herald, plume waving over his veiled face, led forth a halfnaked man, whose eyes were covered by a white scarf, bound tightly around the brows. His form, bare to the waist, was marked by a broad chest, and arms of iron muscle. And yet, as, with his eyes blindfolded,

clad in black, with the

he followed the Herald, he trembled like a It

could not have been with cold,

man

for, either

seized with an ague-chill.

from the heat of a

fire which was invisible, or from the numbers gathered in the darkened room, the air was hot and stifling. Not a word was spoken for the space of ten minutes, but in that space,

—

"

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

102

the senses of the Candidate

and

to

now

fro,

suddenly turned

He was led now

were completely bewildered.

crossing the room,

now

traversing

and forced on

in his course,

entire length,

its

his knees,

by

the hands of

the Herald.

was plainly

It

be seen, that the dead silence of the place awed the

to

senses of this strong man, while the manner in which the Herald led

him, gave him the idea of traversing winding corridors, long passages,

and a wide range of rooms.

For as, in his blindfolded career, he approached the eastern or western extremities of the Lodge, the doors appearing amid the hangings were opened and closed, with a harsh, grating sound. And every time he passed the golden star, glittering from the crowd of waved a burning flambeau in his face. This impressed him with the idea of a fire, blazing in his path, and about to envelop him with its flames. Indeed, the silent ceremonial, altogether, was calculated to chill with awe the firmest nerves to weaken, with the rapid alternations of suscentre of the floor, a figure robed in white advanced from the

brethren, and

;

pense and

The

fear, the stoutest heart.

eternity to the blindfolded

ten minutes

man— were over

—which

A

at last.

deep

seemed an

bell, striking

one, and echoing like a knell, broke on his ear.

Thou art here, in the hallowed circle of C," said the Herald, in a guttural tone.

"

A.

the Free

Lodge of the B. H.

Then chains were dashed upon the floor, and clanked at his back. The harsh sound, breaking, in sudden violence, from the dead stillness, seemed his

"

complete the terror of the

to

His bared arms trembled

Initiate.

;

knees quivered, and shook against each other.

Do

not

— do not — " he gasped — "

no voice was heard While the Herald bound

Still,

in

I will

obey

—

answer; an unbroken silence prevailed.

the chains about his bared chest, and twined

around his naked arms, four figures clad in white, with

their cold links

torches in their hands, bore from the

shadows a

on which was

bier,

placed a motionless figure, in a sitting posture, with two hands extended

from the black "It thee,

is

on

which covered

pall

body of the Dead

the

Its face is

its bier.

!"

its

outlines.

whispered the Herald—"

covered by a

are extended, to clasp thee in the :

pall,

embrace of Death.

beside

It is

but the cold,

stiff

hands

Art thou ready

for the trial ?"

And the

as he spoke, a chorus of hollow whispers

Candidate—"

died in

him "

the

act of

at the altar,

The

trial

It

is

the corse of one

crime"

—

"

who

The vengeance

in the ear of

of

the

— " He

Lodge overtook

even as he heard the voice of his Bride"

?" faltered the Candidate.

" Yes, the solemn ordeal of the dead hand

low voice.

echoed

betrayed his trust"

" Give

me

thy hand.

!"

spoke the Herald

Press the hand of the dead

in his hol-

—thus

11

—

—

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. The

shook

Initiate

103

reed, as he felt those cold fingers in his

like a

grasp.

" Clasp

it

me

and repeat with

firmly,

the obligation of a Free Brother

my

heart there is hidden one thought of treachery to the Order, in whose Lodge I stand, may my hand become

of the B. H. A. C.

like the

my

'If in

hand which I grasp hand of the

lips the cold

The Candidate

and in witness of

;

Bead.''

faltered the words, with a

as though his fears

had choked

this

my

vow, I raise

to

" pause between each syllable,

his utterance.

— spoke the deep

" Raise the hand to your lips"

voice in his ear.

arm trembling in every nerve, he slowly lifted the dead hand, and felt its fingers grow colder in his grasp. He pressed it to his lips, and as the moist, clammy skin filled him with a sensation of intolerable loathing, he let it fall, as though it was a hand of red-hot iron. " Examine the hand, Honorable Herald" spoke the Worthy Master from his throne " If there is a drop of blood upon the palm, this Candi-

With

his strong

—

—

date will prove a Traitor !"

A

The

dead silence ensued.

with

shuddering

Initiate,

awaited the result of this strange ordeal. " There is !" shouted the Herald in tones of thunder

drop of blood upon

suspense,

—" There

is

a

dead hand."

this

" Then," exclaimed the Master, starting erect on his platform, with

dim

his regalia glittering in the

to his

A

doom

Then have we

a Traitor in our

feet,

and rustling robes, and sharp

clanking from the sheath, crashed on the Initiate's ear. ;

prostrate

on the

floor,

with the bandage

over his eyes, he faltered the incoherent prayer

Mercy

He arms. "

"

!"

His knees sank beneath him "

—

confused sound, as of trampling

steel,

still

light

Brothers, arise— arise with daggers drawn, and hurl the wretch

midst.

No

!

Traitor, but a true

the points of the

felt

He was

Death

encircled

to the

Traitor

— he

by

man — do not" —

drawn daggers touch

his face, his

breast, his

a wall of deadly steel.

— death !"

must not leave

arose from an hundred voices.

"

He

—

Lodge alive the drop of blood on the hand of the dead, bears witness against him !" Then a voice, deeper and bolder than all the others, was heard through will betray us

the uproar

the

:

" Prepare, Brothers, prepare your daggers

plunge them, one and

all,

and

at the

!

When

same moment,

I raise

into the

my

hand,

body of the

Traitor !"

There was a pause.

A

breathless silence reigned.

his lips, but he could not speak. his

arms

At

this

fell

The

His head sunk upon

Initiate

motionless in their chains.

moment, a whisper disturbed

moved

his breast,

the breathless stillness

and

—

—

;

PAUL ARDENHEIM

ig-4

" Shall be true !"

And Master

A

!

is

spare

him

He may

?

repent

Even

!

yet, Brothers,

he

may

answer other whispers arose

in

No

*«

we

OR,

;

we cannot about

to

spare him. his

lift

picture of terror

hand

more

He

is

Look

doomed.

The Worthy

!

!"

was presented

abject cannot be imagined, than

in the prostrate figure of that

strong man, bound in chains, and surrounded

by the crowd of veiled forms, flashing with

regalia, a

dagger glittering in

each uplifted hand.

The

suspended from the ceiling grew

light

fainter,

and a gloom more

than intense darkness, sank on the scene, confounding the

impressive

forms of the brethren,

from

like flame-sparks

in

one vague mass of half-shadow, from which

a cloud

— their regalia glittered in tremulous

points

of radiance. "

What wouldst

was

Initiate could not

it

answer.

Let the bandage be removed from his eyes.

doom and

a

He

mingled sound as of whispering voices and steps hurrying

with the sharp clang of steel encountering

fro,

shall behold the

him."

that awaits

There was to

—

the disguised voice of the Herald.

The "

thou do, to obtain light and liberty ?" said a voice

steel,

heard through

the confusion.

The

Initiate felt the

bandage drop from his eyes.

before he could recover the use of his sight, but

It

was

a

when he gazed

moment around,

he discovered that he was kneeling in the centre of a room not more than ten feet square, with a lofty ceiling,

and hangings of midnight darkness.

Before him stood a man, enveloped in a shapeless garment of coarse cloth,

grey in color, and with a

hand he held a light

veil of black

crape over his face.

glittering axe, in the other a flaming torch,

imparted a lurid glare

to

the terror-stricken face

of the Initiate.

Beside this figure was an elevation, covered with black velvet. block of the scaffold. " I

upon

am

thy executioner !" said the figure

In one

whose red It

was the

— "Advance and

lay thy head

ruddy hues,

a corse-like

the block !"

The

face of the Initiate,

was

pallor,

changed from

agitated in every nerve.

its

He

to

raised his chained hands,

and

gasped "

"

am no Traitor !" Come The moment

I

!

you hear

He

it ?

It is

of your death

is

here.

Hark

!

That

bell

your funeral knell."

awed by the terrors which he had With one step he reached the block, and knelt and laid head upon it. He saw the axe flash in the air, in the red light of

dured.

torch

tottered to his feet, entirely

enhis

the

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. He

105

closed his eyes.

There was

The axe

a pause.

did not

Tremblingly the

fall.

Initiate

them blinded by a dazzling light. The four curtains, which, descending from the ceiling of the Lodge, had formed the cell-like apartment, were rolled aside, and the sight which met the eyes of the affrighted man, was brilliant beyond the power unclosed his eyes, and

felt

of language.

An hundred

torches, each grasped in the

—

arm of

a Brother of the Order,

up the spacious Lodge room, and shone on the stars and jewels, symbols and robes in one vivid flood of brightness.

lighted the

—

High on

platform, his breast heaving under

his

its

purple collar, ap-

peared the Worthy Master, with lines of veiled forms, extending from his

down

side,

platform, to the floor

the steps of the

torch blazed brightly, and

and in every hand a

;

on every neck the gorgeous

regalia glittered

with blinding radiance.

Advance! We hail you as "Arise! Worthy Master, in a loud and ringing voice. Trembling arms

still,

the Initiate rose; the chains

guided by the

;

a Brother!" exclaimed the

hand,

Herald's

he

from his breast and

fell

approached

the

Master's

platform.

And from

He

sweat started even yet

his pale face the

in

beaded drops.

glanced from side to side, on the array of veiled figures, clad in

robes of linen and purple, and decked with symbols that shone like stars,

and then his eye was centred on the Master's form,

upon

Thou

"

we

his platform, with a golden torch held in his

hast passed the

try thy courage,

charge

to

The

and

first

test

ordeal.

thy

faith,

who

stood motionless

extended arm.

Another yet remains. with the Ordeal of Blood,

Yet, ere 1

have a

impress upon thy soul." beheld a Brother clad in white advance, holding in one

Initiate

hand, a coarse garment, flaming red in hue, and in the other, a knife, rusty and dim, as with the stain of blood. "

Endue

the Candidate with the

Blood-red robe.

Place in his hand

the rusted knife."

With

was done.

It

knife in

his

the coarse garment on

hand, the Initiate awaited the

his

broad chest, and the

commands

of the

Worthy

Master. " Canst thou

The V "

tell,

I

Initiate's

cannot

Candidate, whose blood

it

is,

that

dyes the sack-

It is

grey eyes expanded in wonder.

tell !"

by

he

faltered.

the Blood of the Poor," exclaimed the Master.

From a hundred " The sackcloth ages

O

which now covers your form ?"

cloth

the axe,

voices broke the chorus

bears witness

by the

cord,

by

of the the iron

:

Wrongs of

the Poor, slain for

hand of the Tyrant

!"

"

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

106

The

" it,

dagger in thy hand

"

I

"

It is

cannot the

tell

dimmed by

is

on

that gathers in blackness

—

"

The Blood is

Whose

stain.

blood of the Oppressor," said the Master

voice of the Brothers joined in chorus

which

dusky

a

of the Tyrant

crimsoned by

that

blood

is

sharp point ?"

its

;

and again the

:

Sacred, in the sight of God, be the steel blood !" !

" This sackcloth, stained with the blood of the Poor, this dagger, rusted

by

That

the blood of the Tyrant's heart, have for thee a solemn lesson.

lesson marks thy

first

Listen

step into the mysteries of our Order.

So

!

long as the blood of the Poor dyes the sackcloth, so long will the blood

The day comes, when the sackcloth as the snow, when the dagger Cross of dazzling light. Then shall the blood

of the Tyrant stain the dagger.

changed

shall be

garment spotless

into a

shall be transformed into a

of the Poor no longer flow, then shall the earth be no longer polluted by

But

the Tyrant's step.

covenant

;

day comes, we have joined

until that

Oath of

wilt thou take the

that covenant,

and bind

in

its

solemn

motto

to

thy heart?" !"

"I will " Warden, administer

The

the Oath."

Candidate, attired in the bloody sackcloth, with the rusted knife in

his hand, was led along the floor, through the dazzling array of the crowded Lodge. In a few moments he stood at the western extremity of the room, at the foot of the Warden's platform. The Warden, gorgeous in his light-blue robe, varied by the scarlet collar,

and with a group of white plumes tossing about

descended the steps, holding

hand a

in his

his veiled

brow,

goblet, filled to the brim with

a red liquid. " Kneel, and repeat the oath

obey forever the mandate of the secrets of this order

love of

woman, nor yet

***********

to

;

I

!

my

do swear,

superiors

in the

to

;

them up, neither

yield

the terrors of the grave.

of * * *

I

also

to

,

my bosom

in

to the fear

I

Furthermore, in case

*^

name

keep locked

of man, the

swear

*****

prove recreant

my

to

obey the commands of my superiors, or reveal the secrets of the B. H. A. C, or meet with any Lodge, not chartered by the oath, and refuse to

Grand Lodge of

this

order,

encounter be planted in

water fail to quench " So mote it be !

"

And

my

may

my

thirst,

Amen

and

the dagger of the

may

heart;

the

and earth deny

Amen

first

brother

sun refuse

me

the shelter of a grave."

in witness of this oath, and of this invocation, I place to

zied gesture, he raised

it,

I

I

!"

this goblet, filled with the blood of a Brother

may my blood be drunken, in case He did not refuse the goblet nor

whom

me warmth,

who

betrayed his

my

lips

trust.

imitate the perjury of the Traitor

fail to

utter the words.

and moistened his

lips

With

So !"

a fren-

with the loathsome liquid.

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. Once more, which

by

terror-stricken

this

horrible

formula of blasphemy,

had repeated, the candidate was led

his lips

107

to

the east,

where the

Master's platform rose.

know me

" Wouldst thou

and repeat with

the great

Then

watchword of our order?

listen

—

"'Death to the Rich Life to the Poor!'" The Initiate's eyes flashed, as he uttered the words

in a tone of violent

emphasis.

And through floated

—

"

—

Lodge, spoken slowly and in distinct utterance,

the

that fearful

Death to the Rich

" Prepare for the last in this,

At

On

—Life

trial.

to the Poor !" comes the ordeal of Blood.

Now

Fail

and thou canst never leave these walls a living man."

this crisis, a

door near the warden's platform was suddenly opened.

the threshold appeared a figure, clad in an array

shamed even

splendor

to

foot in

white velvet, sprinkled with innumerable

with a dove and olive branch, of gold, emblazoned on his

breast, this figure bore in his

bones affixed the

whose

the dazzling regalia of the Lodge.

Clad from head silver stars,

As

it

watchword,

to its

hand a black wand, with a skull and cross

upper extremity.

Worthy Master beheld this figure, he knocked four times in suchammer, which lay on the pedestal arising in

cession, with the gavel or front of his chair.

" Arise,

my

brethren, and greet the

of the B. H. A. C.

Grand Herald of

the

Grand Lodge

!"

With one movement they torches high in the air

rose,

with the

and bending their heads, held their

left

hand, while the right was clasped

upon the breast. "Hail to the Grand Lodge of the B. H. A. C, and ger, who deigns to walk in our midst."

hail to its

Descending from the platform, the Worthy Master knelt

Messen-

at its

foot,

while the Grand Herald took the vacant chair, and, through the apertures of his white veil, surveyed the dazzling array of the Lodge.

Thy

Most Honorable Herald ? Does the Grand Lodge subordinate Lodge ?" " I come from the Grand Lodge, Worthy Master, and come to claim a Brother who has betrayed our order, and broken his vows !" Thus speaking, the Grand Herald advanced to the edge of the platform, "

bidding,

communicate with

its

with his snow-white robe glittering in every It

was evident

that

his

star.

words produced a marked sensation.

The

kneeling Master started, with the same feeling of surprise which thrilled through an hundred breasts. Gilbert the hunter, with his face veiled— the

rifle

and the casket resting

at his feet

great eagerness, his curiosity excited

— started forward, and listened with

by

the message of the

Grand Herald

"

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

108

" A Traitor in our Lodge, Right Honorable Herald ?" " In your Lodge, Worthy Master. Let him step forth, ere his

name is With his face covered by the veil, let him follow me to the Hall of the Grand Lodge, and hear his doom pronounced without a murmur." That voice, soronous and bold, pierced every ear. There was a confused movement among the ranks of the Brethren the murmur of mingled voices and all was still again.

known.

;

;

" His Degree, Right Honorable Herald ?"

He

"

wears the collar of Knighthood.

Once more I extend to him demned and suffer, without

me

no answer was made

name being

his

;

this

moment

I

He

behold him. be con-

shall

revealed, in case he follows

Grand Lodge." Grand Herald might be seen, with

in silence to the Hall of the

Still

At

mercy of secresy.

the

the

his

toward a particular point of the room. Gilbert Morgan, gazing through his veil, beheld him looking intently upon the face turned

veiled

among whom he stood, and awaited with a vague some awe, the utterance of the Traitor's name.

brethren

curiosity,

tinged with

"

A

Knight," he muttered, " and a

man who's

traitor too

Traitor, to think o' betrayin' his trust

And

Hard

!

to believe

taken the Oath of the Degree, knows too well the

of a

!"

huntsman smiled and shuddered

the stout

for a

;

fate

he called

at once, as

to

mind the words of that fearful Oath. Smiled as if in scorn, at the elaboshuddered as he remembered the doom rate blasphemy of those words which had overtaken a recreant Brother. The revery of the hunter was broken by the voice of the Grand ;

Herald. " Once more

I

speak

to

His foot

him.

is

on the box, and by his side

the rifle—" Gilbert's torch

What

" It

shook with the same tremor which heaved

and quivered

chest,

in

I can't

!

seemed

to

him

an electric impulse

every nerve of his iron arm.

a-heerd

he saw the

" Stand forth, Traitor

—

the Traitor

ears

!

'His foot on the box! 1

as if every veiled face ;

go swimming round him, as he spoke

my

if

glittering

was turned toward him,

upon

chasm seat

—

has betrayed the secrets of his Order.

H. A. C. know Gilbert Morgan,

seat,

and take your

the star in the centre of the floor !"

at his it

by

Herald pointed with his wand as

Gilbert heard that voice, and seemed *

as

in a spectral dance.

—" the Grand

Brother of the Knightly Degree, descend from your place

—

forms and long lines of torches

" Stand forth, perjured Knight, and let the B.

who

his broad

feet.

He obeyed

was on the second range from

strode toward the golden

star.

to

behold the floor open

without a word.

Descending from

the level of the floor

— he

in

a

his

slowly

—

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. He saw

the fingers pointing

him

at

109

he heard the whispers, some of

;

pity, others of scorn.

«

The

And

"He

Traitor !"

law enjoins

the

false to

our order !" " Let him be dealt with as

!"

from his

yet, tearing the veil

he dashed

face,

on the

it

floor,

and

arms

Then with it his collar and his robe of Knighthood. over his blue hunting-shirt, he gazed towards the Master's platform with an unfaltering eye, though his brown cheek was very pale, his nether lip folding his

shaken by an involuntary motion. « If I am a « That's all !"

Traitor,

me have

let

death !"

dog's

a

cried—

he

" Worthy Master, in the name of the Grand Lodge, I demand from you body of Gilbert Morgan and at the same time direct you to cover* his collar and his robe with the colors of mourning, and hang them on

the

;

may know

the walls of the Lodge, so that all the brethren longer lives, but has gone to his reward !"

«

I

obey.

And

It shall*

the

as

that he

no

be done !"

Grand Herald descended from the platform, the Worthy

Master led Gilbert toward the door, and paused on the threshold.

At a

Grand Lodge, a brother bore the box and sign from the Messenger them in the hands of the Hunter. placed and the rifle over the floor, 44 Work your will upon him, Into your hands I deliver the Traitor. of the

and

doom which he own head !"

let the

upon

his

merits

fall

upon him alone

;

let his

blood be

Thrice the There was something very impressive in the scene. waved their torches to and fro, thrice they bent their heads, and

brothers

thrice repeated the stern decree 44

Let his blood be upon his

And with

his face reddened

threshold, and looked for

Lodge

— saw

mounting from

who

their voices

ready

by the torch

—"

own

he choked

stood beside him, pointing th^

closed behind them, and the

" Brother Scribe,

you

on the

degree waving their lorches with

down

the

and turned

way beyond

Into the darkness they

his robes, lifted the collar

glare, Gilbert stood

mingle in his death-chant.

his heart to his throat,

extended wand.

!"

the last time over the familiar array of his

the Brothers of his

— heard Come — I'm

the rest 44

own head

went

the

the threshold with

forth

Worthy Master, with

which was Grand Herald,

agitation to

his

together; the door

the torch flashing over

Doomed Man from the floor. from our roll the name of the Dead.

and the robe of the

will strike

Honorable Herald, you will cover these with crape, and suspend them behind It

my

chair, as a token of the fate of the lost brother."

was done.

The

Scribe

— who

sat in

one corner, before

a desk,

a

dark robe flowing round his form, with a dagger and pen emblazoned in silver

on the sleeve, erased the name from the book, which lay open

in

—

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

110

Ere a moment had passed,

the glaring- light.

Morgan was

to all the brothers, that Gilbert

"

Now

Candidate prepare for the

let the

This strange incident had not the foot of the platform

word of

ing to every a

line

was known

it

dead, from that hour.

last ordeal !"

make

failed to

While

sense of the Candidate.

every

the craped collar and robe

from the hangings behind the Eastern Chair, and

fluttered

impression on the

a strong

passed, he had remained standing at

it

— gazing in mute wonder upon every point, listen— and now, with his face manifesting in

the scene

pitiable terror, he

trembled

Worthy

the voice of the

as

Master announced the Ordeal of Blood.

— We may,

pages of this history, describe at length the ap-

in future

pearance and character of

Candidate, and reveal him in scenes of an-

this

other and far different nature.

"I am Do not much"

"

faint"

— do

Covered

as

— he

not

gasped, as the knife

—urge

me

fell

from his unclosing fingers

This scene

farther.

bewilders

he was with the blood-red sackcloth, he

fell

—

:

too

is

it

insensible to the

floor.

How

long he remained unconscious, he

knew

when he

not, but

re-

covered the use of his faculties, the dazzling light of the hundred torches

no longer illumined the

which swung from

who

ing men,

hall.

He

by

rose to his feet, and

An unbroken

bent their faces on their clasped hands.

On

the dim lamp,

high ceiling, beheld the floor crowded by kneel-

-the

si-

humble The other officers of the Lodge were as the humblest of the brethren. throughout that dimly lighted hall, nothing was seen also on their knees

lence reigned.

his platform the

Master knelt, his

attitude as

;

but prostrate forms, heads bowed, and hands clasped as

And

and tremulous

Prayer.

Suddenly

faint

light.

— while the Candidate, awed

to the soul,

ly for the slightest gesture, or the faintest

poured through an open doorway.

room

if in silent

through the gloom, the symbols of the order gleamed, with a

It

sound

—a

grew more

was watching intentflood of ruddy light vivid,

it

bathed the

sudden splendor.

in

And on

the threshold appeared

two

figures, in robes

shrouds, slowly advancing with a measured' step.

which resembled

They

held

lighted

torches over their heads.

As they passed

the threshold and took their

way through

the kneeling

brethren, two forms appeared behind them, at the distance of

Clad

paces.

or four

in

the

some

three

same shroud-like

robes, they also bore

moving with

same measured

torches above their heads.

Slowly and

it

was

coffin of

the

four advanced,

unpainted pine wood.

like robes,

the

seen that they bore a funeral bier,

shone

The

torch-light

in painful distinctness

step,

on which was placed a

glowing over their shroud-

upon the closed

lid

of the coffin.

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. They came slowly

on.

Still

star in the centre of the floor.

They

knelt.

no head was

lifted

reached the

not a hand

;

was

placed the bier upon the star, and stood around

They

unclasped.

the brethren Still

Ill

it,

their torches over the rude coffin.

waving

The

scene was wild and spectral.

that coffin of

These four

figures clad in white,

rough pine wood, were seen in the centre of the dazzling

array of robes and symbols.

The

who

figure

stood at the head of the coffin, on the right, suddenly

lowered his torch, and dashed

by one, lid

it

against the closed

lid.

The

others, one

imitated his action, and the extinguished torches rested

upon the

of the coffin.

Through the gloom, Worthy Master of

"

your hands

the voice of the

first

figure echoed, like a

knell—

C,

No. 256, of the B. H. A. the dead body of Gilbert Morgan."

I deliver

the Rifle Lodge,

into

CHAPTER NINTH. THE FATE OF GILBERT MORGAN. It

may

not be altogether without interest, for us to follow the stout

hunter on his way, and behold the manner of his

"

Come

!

Follow

me

!" said the voice of the

through the darkness of the passage into the ante-room of the GraiTd

In silence,

with

his

— " We

Doom. Grand Herald, speaking

ascend these

stairs,

and pass

Lodge."

heart chilled,

his

senses

bewildered by. this

They

mysterious incident, Gilbert followed the unknown messenger. ascended the

stairs,

and through a doorway, where a curtain supplied the

place of oaken panels, passed into the ante-room. It

was a small apartment, illumined by a lamp, which stood on a

table

covered with dark cloth, with a skull and an unsheathed sword by side.

The

its

place was hung with dark tapestry, on which the various

symbols of the order were emblazoned, with the " B. H. A. C."

glitter-

ing brightly in their midst. A*

man

dressed in a loose garment of white linen, with a dark mantle

from the shoulders, confronted the Grand Herald, with the veil on his face glowing with the mystic letters, and the point of his sword

floating

turned to the uncovered floor.

PAUL ARDENHETM; OR,

112

"Pass free

Through like

said, " the

Grand Herald," he

on,

Grand Sentinel gives thee

passage into the Hall of the Grand Lodge."

it,

the

doorway

with a curtain

— opposite

that

by which they had entered, and,

place of a door

in the

— Gilbert and

the

Grand He-

rald silently passed.

In a circular room, hung with purple tapestry, and lighted by candles, which were placed on four separate pedestals, covered with white cloth

and rising

at intervals

from the polished mahogany

floor, the

Grand Lodge

of the Order were assembled. Gilbert, led

by the Grand Herald, looked from side

some twenty men,

veiled

in

scarlet velvet, and

with golden

glittering

letters

and symbols.

was very impressive.

Altogether, the effect of the scene

Before the Hunter arose a platform, with

dark cloth.

and beheld

Their faces were concealed by a sort of cowl,

around the white pedestals.

made of

to side,

robes of dark purple, seated in a circle,

its

three steps covered with

In a chair, adorned with cumbrous carvings, with wide arms,

and a high back, surmounted by

golden crown, sat a veiled form, clad

a

from the shoulders

in a flowing robe of purple, glittering,

to the feet,

with

vine leaves, stars, a dagger and a skull, and other symbols of the Order.

This

figure

wore over his face a

bronzed features

to

be dimly seen

was twined, and from plume of raven darkness.

leaves

its.

which permitted

veil of white lace,

his

around his brow, a coronet of golden

:

centre

waved

a single long and slender

" You stand before the Most Venerable, the Grand Master of the " Grand Lodge of the B. H. A. The Grand Herald, as he uttered these words, laid his hand on the You are now in the pre" Kneel hunter's shoulder, and whispered '

C

—

sence of your Judge

!

!"

In the centre of the space, bounded by the four pedestals, the Hunts-

man

strongly contrasted with the purple

knelt, his plain hunting-shirt

robes of the encircling figures, his rude swnburnt features with the halfveiled face of the side, in the

Grand Master,

whom

to

white robe sprinkled with

his

By

gaze was turned.

stars, the

his

Herald stood, the wand

grasped in his extended hand.

The Hunter tery,

looked wonderingly around, while the sensation of mys-

and the terror that comes from mystery, began

crowd

to

his brain

with images of gloom and death.

Not

a

word was spoken.

grouped around face, the

;

Grand Master

his flowing robe,

" It

lifeless

sat

in

the voice of the

erect,

effigies,

with a

those

figures

over

veil

its

were frozen

on his throne, the lights playing warmly over

and shining on each

Have you no word, was

Like

like a corse placed

answer

to

brilliant symbol. our charge ?"

Grand Master, and broke with a sudden emHe could not answer the mysterious

phasis upon the Hunter's ear.

;

THE MONK OF THE W1SSAHIKON. summons which had

nature of the fallen

him hither

the fear which had him charged with the ;

Doom, which was secret all rushed upon the stout Woodsman once, and held him dumb. " Of what am I accused ]" he faltered at last " Whar's the man that

unpardonable treason

would be at

called

faces of his brethren, as they heard

upon the

113

the anticipation of an approaching

;

as terrible as

—

it

—

dar' say

Even

it

?"

he knelt, raising his clenched hand, while the arm shook with

as

a ceaseless motion, he uttered the words in a

husky

voice, and with his

head bent forward, awaited an answer. "

Deathsman of

H. A. C.

the B.

— advance

!"

Prepare the cord

!

Gilbert did not see the form, which, advancing from the circle, stood at

he heard the footstep, and

his back, but at

that his

felt

Executioner was

hand. It

was indeed

mask upon

a hideous figure, with a death's-head

the fleshless bones of a skeleton traced his hand, covered

upon

his breast

his face,

and limbs, and in

with a black glove, painted in resemblance of a skele-

wound once around

ton hand, he bore a cord, which,

the fingers, dangled

to the floor.

" Accuser of the Guilty

— advance

!'

T

again the Grand Master's voice

was heard.

And

in front of Gilbert,

on the

less robe, black as midnight,

gloomy

folds.

" Speak, Accuser,

what

ing cowl, or

Without

lifting the

is

right,

man

appeared a

and with no ornament

Crime of

the

the

cowl, the Accuser spoke

to

veiled in a shaperelieve

its

droop-

Accused ?" ;

Gilbert listening

tae

all

while with trembling earnestness. " I accuse Gilbert

our Order. Scarlet

Degree

« Accuse

Morgan

of the violation of his Oath as a Brother of

accuse him of betraying his sacred trust, as a Knight of the

I

me

!" It's

?

a lie— a

lie,

by

!"

shouted Gilbert, with an in-

voluntary impulse of anger and profanity. Half-starting from the floor, he flung his clenched

Grand Master, while the

hand toward the

pallor of his face vanished before a flush of un-

governable rage.

"Accuse me I

don't keer

o' violatin'

who

his face, with

ses

my

it

foot

—

my

upon

He towered in the midst own true rifle in his grasp. fearless scorn

Yet

at the

upon

;

one knee, gasped

he

this

my

the lie in his teeth

box, this

rifle in

trust as a

And

!

my

hands

Knight?

prove

I'll

it

to

!"

of the secret band, his foot upon the box, his

There was

a

look of defiance on his brow, a

his lip.

same moment,

round his neck

oath as a Brother,

I fling

felt

a cord

was thrown over

his

head

;

it

tightened

himself dragged rudely backward, and sinking on

for breath.

"

PAUL ARDENHEIM

114

Ah

"

dog

By

!

This

!

a

is

OR

;

coward's trick

—

murder a man

to

like a

!"

Struggling fiercely while that cord tightened about his neck, Gilbert

head from side to side, and saw the point of an unsheathed sword glimmering from the folds of every robe. The Accuser held a pistol to his throat, a grim weapon, huge in the barrel, with a stock of heavy mahogany inlaid with silver. At the same instant, the Grand

rolled his

Herald drew a dagger from beneath his white garment, and stood ready to strike its

keen point into the victim's

my

"Let me know thick and gurgling

by

crime

heart.

—" muttered

the tightening cord

Gilbert, every

— " If

a Free Brother, or betrayed the trust of a true Knight, let

"

You

—" At

obligation, never to desert the

Order

it

;

your

you took a solemn

initiation,

never

to

undertake any enterprise,

bonds of marriage, without the Decree of the Grand

less enter into

To-night, without consulting your

Lodge, affirming your purpose.

Lodge, or the Grand Lodge, you resolved with Madeline, the orphan,

You

!"

me know

have violated your oath as a Brother," exclaimed the Grand

Master, starting from his chair

much

word rendered

have violated the oath of

I

who

dwells

enter into marriage

to

in

the

home

own

bonds

of Peter Dormer.

resolved to desert our Order, break your vows, and renounce

allegiance to your superiors

—

I

hold the Accusation in

my

hand.

all

It

is

signed by a Brother of the Knightly Degree." Utterly confounded by this charge, Gilbert

saw the dagger and word in answer. " More than this

—"

his platform, with the

and could not speak

a

continued the Grand Master, as he stood erect on

parchment of

have perjured yourself to

the rope about his neck,

felt

pistol levelled at his heart,

the

the Accusation in his

are

bound

sums of money in your your own Lodge or, in case the sum to the Treasury of the Grand Lodge.

bring at once, without a moment's delay,

possession, either to the chest of

hand; "you

By your vow, you

in another point.

all

—

—

beyond an hundred doubloons Have you done this ? The box at your feet contains one thousand pieces You know nay, you dare not deny that it was your intention of gold. Appointed, at the last to appropriate this sum to your own purpose. meeting of your Lodge, to secure this money, appointed by your you have violated your trust. Lodge, at the Decree of the Grand Lodge is

—

—

—

—

And

in

proof of

this

also, I

hold the accusation in

my

hand, made and

signed by a Brother !" "

I

was

—

in the

Lodge, with the box

in

my

hand, about

to

when The words were interrupted by the gradual tightening of Thrown on his back, Gilbert lay without speech or motion, his

deliver

it,

the cord. face dark-

ening into livid purple, his eyes protruding and blood-shotten. " Brothers of the

Grand Lodge— you have heard

the Accusation,

made

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. by

not only

the Venerable Accuser, but affirmed

115

by your Grand Master

?

your Decree ?" " Guilty !" was echoed by every voice.

What "

is

Your judgment

?"

in chorus, they uttered the formula of the B. H. A. C. " Let him be stripped of all Regalia, for he has dishonored that Re-

And,

Let the name of Brother be torn from his heart, for he has covered that name with infamy. Let him be put under the Ban of the galia.

Order, and then surrendered to the vengeance of the

may that

encounter him

bound him

to

for

;

first

Brother

who

he has broken his vows, and severed every

tie

our protection and our love."

now

prepare for the solemn ceremony of the Ban Grand Master, descending from his platform. The cord grew hunter uttered an involuntary groan.

"The Grand Lodge

will

of Excommunication," said the

The

stout

tighter coil,

he struggled

;

fiercely, in the effort to free

himself from

its stifling

but the hue of his sunburnt face was changed to livid purple, his lips

became the color of bluish clay, and every vein, every muscle of his visage was distorted by the impulse of harrowing physical torture. false " he groaned, and then all became a blank his senses 'It is there seemed a blood-red light flashing upon his starting eyefailed him balls and all was darkness.

—

—

—

—

—

When

he recovered his senses, he found himself standing in front of

Grand Master's platform, supported on one on the other by the Accuser.

side

the

A

by

Deathsman,

the

pale bluish flame shone over the encircling forms, and gave their

That flame was only

robes a spectral and unnatural appearance.

combined

light of the torches,

which they held

made

Before the hunter was a large vessel,

with iron hoops.

And

as the

was

It

filled

of dark wood, and encircled

with a red liquid.

Grand Master. waved

his

hand, the Brethren advanced

between the hunter and the Grand Master, and plunged torches into the vessel, filled with the red liquid. as torch

after

False Brother

The twenty

torch

was extinguished

— " Thus

"

their lighted

Thus—"

they cried,

perish the soul of the

!"

torches were plunged into the

wooden

vessel, their flames

A

extinguished, their handles projecting from the red liquid.

held by the

the

in their uplifted arms.

Grand Master, shed

its

faint light

candle,

over the scene, and dimly

disclosed the circle of shrouded forms, with the half-naked figure of the

Hunter

in the centre.

His arms were pinioned

;

the cord

was about

his

neck

;

but half-

aroused from a deathlike swoon, his senses were deadened by a leaden apathy.

more

As torch

after torch hissed into the vessel,

vivid brightness, as

it

sunk

in

and flashed with a

darkness, Gilbert thought he was

entangled in the horrors of some unutterable dream.

—

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

—

The False Brother is degraded," said the voice of the Accuser "His name has been inscribed on the Book of Judgment; he has been laid "

under the irrevocable Ban of the Covenant " Accursed

— accursed,

forever !"

the

!"

words broke

whispers

in faint

through the gloom.

Then do

"

him over

give

I

death be secret

let it

;

Deathsman of our Order.

the

to

be speedy, so that his form

may

Let his

no longer pollute

earth, and shame the broad canopy of heaven with the sight of a Living Traitor !"

the

Gilbert

Deathsman on

the gripe of the

felt

he suffered himself

to

Without a word,

his arm.

be led along the floor, and saw, with an apathetic

gaze, the shrouded figures kneeling on either side.

He

reached the curtained wall, and

—while

Deathsman,

the

hideous mask, with the form of a skeleton traced upon his limbs the candle, and extended his hand, as

voices of the Brethren, speaking in a

" Farewell," they whispered

The

hangings were

appeared

lifted

in

—

his

lifted

point the way, he heard the

if to

murmur

—" Farewell

by

the

to the forsworn and fallen !" Deathsman, and a narrow doorway

in the light.

His arms pinioned, his neck encircled by the cord, Gilbert passed

under the raised hangings, and ness.

A

and shrouded

Not

in an instant

cloth had been placed

on

hunter could see clearly

but

;

vision, he found himself in a small fire,

It was some time when he recovered the use

his eyes.

table of unpainted

oak stood

On

in

the centre, before

this table

were placed a

What

does

all

wine, a cup, and It

He

fire,

with an

turned from the ruddy

Deathsman standing by his side. this mean ?" he asked " a comfortable

—

means, that a half-hour of

are allowed the

and wine.

Yet,

fire,

a pipe o' tobacco !" life is still

permitted to you

voice, echoing from within the death's-head mask.

you

the

bottle, a goblet of'

and a clay pipe.

blaze, and beheld the

"

before

of his

room, with wainscotted walls, and a

Gilbert could scarce believe his sight.

"

his eyes,

smoking and crackling, on an open hearth.

arm-chair at either end. silver,

in thick dark-

hung over

;

The bandage was removed from

A

it

word was spoken, but he felt himself dragged onward, along a dragged by the cord, which encircled his neck.

a

cheerful

;

their sight.

narrow passage

the

was enveloped

his forehead

warmth of the

fire,

at

hand.

—"

said the

that half-hour,

the cheerful influence of tobacco

when you have exhausted

hour of your death will be

"In

a bottle o'

the pipe and the bottle, the

— Until

that

moment comes,

I

leave you."

There was but one door

to

the

room.

It

was opposite

the

fire.

\

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. Gilbert beheld

key turn

the

it

close, as the

He

in the lock.

117

Deathsman passed the threshold, and heard stood for a moment, gazing about him, with

a bewildered glance. " Is there no

way

of escape ?" he muttered, pacing rapidly around the

"

room, and feeling every panel of the wainscot. o' this

cursed den the

"nitiated into

my

benefit of

Little did I think,

?

order, and took

firmly jointed into each other.

new

with a

secret passage out

when

ago,

the oath to rob and

A

surprise.

the arm-chair,

first I

was

murder, for the this !"

Lodge, that I'd ever be caught in a trap like

There was no way of escape

hung over

No

some years

were perfectly smooth, and The hunter turned to the fire, and started the panels

;

coat of dark-green velvet, faced with gold,

and beneath

it

appeared a shirt of

fine

was

linen,

with ruffled collar and bosom, and a waistcoat of bufl-colored cloth, glittering

"I'm

with small buttons of gold.

cold," he laughed

—and

shuddered

the

at

same moment— for*

even in his merriment, the incalculable Power of the Secret Order awed his iron

heart—" An'

this fine

hunting-shirt, leather belt,

gear will do for me,

was not long ere he stood

It

in front of the

coat, with the lace ruffles protruding

jist as

well as

my

!"

and powder-horn

hearth, clad in the green

from the

This costume

buflf vest.

displayed the outlines of his massive figure in strong

relief,

and

its

bright

colors threw his sunburnt features boldly into the light.

He pipe,

flung himself in the chair, filled the goblet, and lighted the clay

whose long stem reached from

his lips to his waist.

" Anybody, to see me, now, 'ud think takin'

He

my

ease,

and

was a gentleman

I

nobody

carin' a cuss for

smoke of

drained the goblet, and the

o' fortin'

!"

the pipe floated in bluish

wreaths above his head. "

That

,

wine goes through the veins

'ere

like

life,

Ingies, as

I'm a poor miserable Devil, doomed

in this cut-throat

And

as

den

fire

!

Sich tobacco

Cuba, rale Cuba, from the

as this, a feller don't often see in these parts.

West

melted

to

be choked out

o'

!"

— warmth of imparting —he became, by degrees, cheerful and

he drank and smoked

fluence to his chilled limbs

the

the

fire

its in-

excited,

and then a leaden drowsiness sank on his senses, and dulled his eyes and

ears.

The bowl was shivered

fell

from his hand, and lay upturned on the table

into fragments at his feet.

After

all

that he

;

the pipe

had endured,

with the certainty of death before him, the hunter sunk into a dead slumber.

His hands were crossed upon his buff waistcoat, and, with his

head resting against the back of the

chair, his

mouth wide open, he

slept

the dreamless sleep of weariness and exhaustion.

As

the pipe

fell

from his hand, the door opened behind him, and the

Deathsman, hideous

in his

mask and

skeleton disguise, once more appeared.

PAUL ARDENHEIM

1X8

OR,

;

CHAPTER TENTH. THE GOLDEN SIGNET AND M

The

drug has done

its

work—"

COUNTERPART.

ITS

he exclaimed, in a voice whose joy-

ous intonation could not be drowned, even by his mask

We

done his work.

have used him

when an

Scarce had he spoken,

important influence on the

— he

incident occurred,

doomed

of the

fate

—"The fellow has

no more !" which exercised an

shall trouble us

hunter.

At the back of the Deathsman, treading at his very heels, appeared a man, whose sharp features were shadowed by a three-cornered hat, while his slender limbs were clad in dark attire, made after the fashion of the olden time, the coat with

its

skirts

drooping

to his

knees, the vest reach-

ing far below the waist, and the ends of a white neckcloth dangling on the breast.

The

face of this

man—clad,

not in the robes and symbols of the secret

order, but in the attire of a plain citizen

nose, pinched lips, sharp eyes, and

brown

— was marked by a long hooked

high cheek-bones.

It

was dark-

and the hair which straggled from beneath his was of jetty blackness, with here and there a lock of

in complexion,

three-cornered hat, silvery whiteness.

" While he

in this stupor,

is

we

have him conveyed on

will

City, placed on shipboard, and then

!

— ho,

Gilbert Morgan will never trouble woods again." A smile was perceptible on the sharp features of the the Slave Trade.

in black, as he stole softly

on

to

the

Coast of Africa, and

for the

the

Wissahikon

stranger, dressed

behind the Deathsman, and touched

tip-toe

his shoulder with the forefinger of his right hand.

" Tell your Grand Master that moments' conversation with him,"

deepened over his "

Hey

?

I

wish

to see

said the

him, and have a few

unknown, while

the smile

face.

who spoke

?"

The Deathsman wheeled

the slender form of the stranger

—" Who

suddenly, and saw

you ?" your Grand Master ?" are

" Will you convey my message to And taking handsome snuff-box from his waistcoat pocket, he tapped the lid, and conveyed some portion of its contents to his nose. The hideous mask covered the face of the Deathsman the surprise, the overwhelming wonder stamped on his features, was not visible, but as a

;

he spoke

again, the intonation of his voice

—but harsh and

—no longer deep and measured

hurried, told the story of his

amazement.

"

And who

—

"

—

"

!

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON.

119

—

you ? You dare intrude upon the councils of our Order you you not—" " Pooh, pooh That is sufficient," said the gentleman, smiling all " Convey my message, and let the Grand Masover his sharp features are

Know

!

ter attend

—

me."

The unknown

crossed his hands behind his back, and advanced to the »

hearth.

For a moment the Deathsman seemed to hesitate, and again he asked— " Who are you ? Your name, your business here ? If you belong to the Grand Lodge, give me the Word and the sign

—

"

I shall

do no such thing, for

merely wish

do not belong

I

Grand Master.

to see the

you understand me now ?" " This

against

is

have penetrated

our laws.

It

—

a person altogether

Without

lot.

Brotherhood or authority, you desire

cannot be

—

The Deathsman

Grand Lodge. I enough ? Can

unknown-

house, and dared to spy out those mysteries in

into this

which you have neither part nor to indicate

You

to the

Is that not plain

regalia

— without one

to see the

sign

Grand Master.

hand on the chair of the unconscious

stood, resting his

hunter, with the light playing freely over his grotesque disguise, and

showing, in bold

relief, the contrast

between

it

and the plain, dark apparel

of the unknown. "

It

can be

—"

the slender gentleman wheeled suddenly, and tapped the

lid of his snuff-box

— "It must

!"

the slumbering Gilbert, he seated himself in the

Then, passing before

unoccupied chair, and stretched his spare limbs, with silver buckles on the knees and shoes, in the cheerful

The Deathsman "

A

huge fellow

retired in silence

— brawny

might be made of him. stand

any

upon

trifles,

or

form

glow of the

—

a vast

That forehead

— once

fire.

again the key grated in the lock.

;

aroused

tells

—be

fund of nerve. the story of a

held

Something

man who won't

back by scruples of

sort."

Glancing upon the brown visage of the sleeper, the unknown very coolly applied himself to his favorite stimulant— the dark tobacco dust

crossed his limbs in a posture of great complacency, and, placing his

thumbs

together,

seemed

to

be altogether

at

home

in this

mysterious

chamber.

The key

grated in the lock, and as

Master entered, his

tall

the door flew open, the

and somewhat commanding form clad

ple robe, dazzling with embroidery, the white veil features,

shadowing

Grand

in the purhis

bronzed

and the solitary plume waving from the coronal of gold leaves

on his forehead. Advancing one step from the threshold, he paused, and exclaimed, in assumed

that deep tone, evidently

^

"

—

V

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

120

" Who is it that demands audience with h. a. a?" "A-h you have come," the unknown

—

over his shoulder

—"

—

I

have waited

The Grand Master which veiled

started

and features

—sharpened

come

have wailed.

his

head

Be pleased

hither."

instant he stood as if completely con-

this slender

as

I

the B.

his eyes flashed, even through the lace

;

For an

his features.

founded by the words of

carelessly turned

for you.

# to close the door, turn the key, and

Grand Master of

the

gentleman, whose neat black

by the systematic

attrition of traffic

attire,

— indicated

the plain citizen, the restless merchant of the large city.

However,

as

though mastering his indignation for the moment, he

quietly closed the door, turned the

key

in the lock,

unknown. "

Now,

will hear you.

sir, I

After

have heard

I

and approached the

—"

his voice,

growing

bold and harsh with anger, was interrupted by the sharp tones of the

gentleman

in

dark

attire.

" After you have heard, you will obey. permit me to ask you a question ?" "

Speak on."

"

To whom

That

plain, sir.

is

Will you

does the Initiate into a subordinate Lodge of the B. H. A.

C. swear allegiance ?" " To the Honorable Master of the Lodge, of course. Did you know any thing of our Order " Bah Enough of that kind of talk. Let me ask you another To whom does the Honorable Master of a subordinate Lodge question.

—

!

of the B. "

To

H. A. C, swear allegiance." Most Venerable Grand Master of

the

Continent of

And

in kingly robes,

if I

my

may

it.

The

and standing

and careless

"And, 44

B. H. A. C. for the

the dazzling robe fluttered with the impulse of the broad chest

Which swelled beneath attire

the

America— to me/" entire appearance of this personage, clad

erect,

was

attitude of the slender

dear friend

—"

in vivid contrast with the plain

gentleman.

the snuff-box

be so impertinent as

to press

was again

called into play

—To whom does

the subject

the

Right Venerable, the Grand Master of the Order for the Continent of

America, swear allegiance ?" "

The Most

" No,

sir.

Venerable, you

The Right

mean

—

Venerable.

*

Most' does not belong

to

you

nor to your office."

The Grand Master was silent. " You seem to hesitate. Is not

the question easy

the last act of your installation into the

?

Grand Master's

You remember when the

chair,

box or casket containing the Will of your predecessor was placed

in

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON.

121

your hands, sealed with the Great Seal of the Order, which no one save

Grand Master dare touch ?" was an obligation a charge but there is no such body in existence as the Supreme Lodge of the Order, controlling its operations throughout the World." There was a strange hesitation in the manner, a perceptible tremor in the voice of the Grand Master. the Elect

" True

Ah

" the

— there

— ha

—

You have

!

Supreme Lodge'—"

4

and small black eyes

—

discovered at

there

last, that

is

such a body as

the sharp-featured smiled in his parched lips

— "And

you

the obligation that

took, invoking

upon

your head the vengeance of God, the tortures of Eternal Death, in case

vow— do

you broke your word ?"

Who

"

you ?"

are the

dared

question me, and

question

to

yours

;

I

and most important

Grand Master, unconsciously Deathsman had asked " You have

the

—

Unfold

sign from me, the

or, at a

it

is

my

turn

once your name, your

at

room, and mete out

this

Now,

have tamely answered.

answer.

to

mission within these walls,

Order will throng

last

its

fiercely exclaimed the

question which

echoing to

you remember

to

you

members of the

doom

the

of the

-spy-"

He

raised his right arm, and his eyes flashed through the veil with

the glare of ungovernable rage.

" *And in case

I refuse at

Lodge, when conveyed shall be absolved

are from that

C,

from

to

all

any time

me

allegiance to

moment empowered by

disown

my

sway, dishonor " under the irrevocable ban.' to

As he repeated these words,

man

obey the mandate of the Supreme

to

in ancient form, the Brothers of the

me

;

the

Lodges on

this

the sacred customs of the B.

my

name, and hunt

me

Order

Continent

H. A.

to the death,

slow and measured tone, the gentle-

in a

dressed in black arose, and passing before the sleeping hunter, con-

fronted the

" This

Grand Master. the last word of

is

dead body of your Predecessor.

the Obligation

which you took over the

Do you remember

it

now

?"

was a singular thing to see the change which came over the gorgeously arrayed Grand Master, as this plainly attired man uttered these It

He was

words.

silent

;

he

tottered,

and only saved himself from

falling

by placing his hand upon the back of Gilbert's chair. " And I will recognise the Messenger of the Supreme Lodge, when•

ever he appears holding in his hand the counterpart of the golden signet,

which

I

wear on

my

the Great Seal of the

heart as the

Grand Lodge

emblem '

of

my

authority, and also as

"

Extending his hand, the unknown grasped the golden medal, describe

it

more properly,

the Great Seal, which, supported

—also of gold —shone on the Grand Master's breast.

by

a

or,

to

heavy chain

—

"

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

'

122

You behold

"

upon

which

the figures on this medal,

the melted

wax — appear

in

Temple

in

his throne, with the

characters, traced on the Mosaic

tfye

— when

it

is

impressed

shape of King Solomon on

distinct

Hebrew and

the distance, and floor at his feet

Now

?

Arabic

look upon the

counterpart of this signet."

He

placed in the hands of the Grand Master a small casket of dark

wood, the

Hah

"

lid

of which flew open at his touch.

the casket contained

" Like

He

It is

as he beheld

the

medal which

indeed very like the signet—"

the same, only on your

It is

?

—"

Do you want

here they are raised.

The

Grand Master,

!" ejaculated the

medal the

sunken

figures are

;

further proof?"

took the medal of the Grand Master, and placed his

own upon

it.

raised figures on the one, fitted into the sunken spaces on the other,

with so much exactness, that the two seemed but one piece of solid gold. " What do you demand ?" the voice of the Grand Master was changed

—

from to

me,

that this

preme Lodge

" I

and indignant tones.

fiery

its late

may

must confess

be only an imposition

1

that

it

appears

never heard of the Su-

"

body in actual existence " You thought, my good sir, that it was only a masonic expression for the Power of the Almighty, and, governed by this thought, have assumed titles and privileges which do not belong to you have in fact invaded the Prerogative of the Supreme Lodge, and usurped its functions !" as a

—

The gentleman

in dark attire placed the casket within his waistcoat,

and again supplied his nostrils with tobacco dust, as he remarked " Right Venerable Grand Master, you will take one arm of this insensible

man, and

assist

me

to

convey him

into the presence of the

Supreme

Lodge—" " But the Grand Lodge await strangely of

"

They

my

absence

—

my

return.

The

Brothers will think

will have to continue thinking strangely, for a great while,"

ominous smile. " Was it not enough, your grasp the revenues and power of the Order ? At your word, a thousand men all bold and unscrupulous, and fitted by

said the dark gentleman, with an sir,

that

you held

in

tinent of America. sails of at least five

—

—

on every part of the ConAt your mandate, the ocean was whitened by the hundred ships, whose dark flags bore the same skull

desperation for any deed

started into action,

and crossbones with the dagger and the motto of the order. You had in any of the cities of the North or South, your to speak, and lo bidding was done— property and life became, through the ten thousand hands of the Order, your easy prey. But this it seems was not enough. only

!

Not enough

to

hold a power, which, striking from the dark

fabulous by the great mass

— rivalled, in

of an absolute Monarch, and, at the danger,

all

responsibility,

by

its

same

— deemed

certainty of action, the

time,

sway

was secured from

the cloud of an impenetrable mysterv.

all

Not

—

—

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON.

123

enough to dwell in a splendid mansion, in the great city, and be caressed by the rich and aristocratic, while every Minion of the Crown thought it but a proper reverence for high birth and great property' to do you es'

This did not

pecial honor.

supreme power

own

your

— ay,

only

sir,

satisfy

You aimed

your ambition.

night, laid

this

your plans

at the

convey

to

hands the thousand doubloons, which were ordered

into

to

bt

secured for the use of the Supreme Lodge."

Even beneath the blast.

Grand Master trembled

his royal robe, the

•

—

You know my name " he faltered. The slender man tapped the lid of his

"

offered

its

like a reed in

contents to the

snuff-box, and, with a deep

bow,

Grand Master

you take the arm of was done. They raised

man ?" man from

" Will

this insensible

It

the sleeping

the chair, and, sup-

porting his unconscious form between them, departed from the room.

As

they passed the threshold, the gentleman in black whispered pleasantly to the

"

Grand Master

You do

not

thought that

know

all its

all the

You

secrets of this old house.

doubtless

rooms were occupied by your subordinates, and quite

forgot the fact, that the second story of the back part of this

communicates with the steep not ten feet from where

we

hill

mansion on the north, by a door and a passage

stand.

Do you

believe in the

Supreme

Lodge now ?"

They passed

the threshold, and, instead of descending the stairs into the

Grand Lodge, traversed the corridor in an opposite direction. Presently, as he grasped the body of the unconscious hunter with his muscular right arm, the Grand Master heard a key turn in a lock.

room of

the

At the same moment, the whisper of the unknown even through the darkness " Let us enter.

thrilled

on

his ear,

:

This passage leads us

into the

bosom of

the hill, at

the back of the mansion."

Scarcely had the Grand Master and the unknown, bearing the form of

warmed by the cheerful wood fire, and by the candle on the table, when a figure crossed its threshold, and the Deathsman appeared once more. " Strange The Grand Master not here, and the Traitor also gone !" Gilbert, left the small apartment,

lighted

!

"

he ejaculated, as he surveyed the vacant apartment. that so boldly desired an audience with

He

left the

Who

can

it

be,

him ?"

room with a hurried step, and Grand Herald by his side.

in a

few moments reap-

peared, with the

" This

is

indeed singular," said that personage, as his white robe, daz-

zling with stars, glittered in the light

— " Gone, did you

say

?

The Grand

—

"

"

PAUL ARDENHEIM

124

:

OR,

;

Master, the doomed and the unknown ? Have you no traces ? By what means could they have obtained egress from the house ?" To this hurried question, which he propounded without raising the veil from his face, there was no answer. These two ministers of the Grand Organization of the B. H. A. C. left the apartment, and descended into the Hall of the Grand Lodge together.

Day was candles

breaking without the desolate mansion

;

on the pedestals, were burning

standing

and

in the hall, the

toward

fast

their

sockets. Still

seated in a circle, their purple robes glowing in the wavering light,

Grand Lodge awaited the return of their Chief. His the Grand Herald, leaning on his wand, stood near and by his side, the Deathsman. Through the masks which

the Brothers of the

platform was vacant foot,

its

;

covered their faces, they gazed over the forms of the brethren, •

versed in whispers

Head

pearance of the Great "

cannot be done

It

the Lodge.

of —" whispered

custom, for even a Right Venerable It

who

the

Deathsman

Warden

—"

It

is

against all

adjourn the Grand Lodge.

to

cannot be done without the presence of our Chief."

—

what else can we do ?" interposed the Grand Herald "Our who opened this session, is absent. It is near daybreak, and we

" Yet, chief,

con-

their all-absorbing topic, the unaccountable disap-

;

do not wish

be seen leaving this house in the broad light of morning. cried aloud, " in the absence of the Grand Master, I

to

Brethren," he

would suggest session

The

that

—

Grand Warden be empowered

the

sentence was never completed.

the sockets, the

hangings

opposite

platform

were

office,

might be seen that the golden signet was his

and a

strode slowly, and

with a measured step, through the ranks of his brethren.

from his neck, while

raised,

—

!

it

close this

For, as the lights were burning in the

murmur of surprise broke the stillness " The Grand Master At last he has come The Grand Master, clad in the robes of his the platform,

to

As he ascended still

bronzed features were covered by the

" Brothers of the Grand

Lodge—"

suspended veil.

he began, but paused— as four veiled

figures, bearing a coffin, crossed the threshold

and advanced toward the

Every member could not fail to observe that the voice of the Grand Master was strangely changed, as he continued " Behold the corse of Gilbert Morgan, who was executed in my presence by the Ministers of the Supreme Lodge !" platform.

The

effect of his

cernible, for as

words upon the members of the Order, was not

he spoke, the

lights, flickering for the last time,

dis-

went out

in

—

the monk: of the

wissajhikon.

125

darkness, and, amid the whispers which echoed from every side, only-

words were audible

three

—" The Supreme Lodge

The Grand Master had been gone

for the

!"

space of three

—perchance

four hours.

we

Shall

lift

the curtain from the councils of the

reveal the history of those hours

Supreme Lodge, and

?

CHAPTER ELEVENTH. THE SUPREME LODGE.

We now return known whisper 44

to the

moment when

the

Grand Master heard

This passage leads us into the bosom of the

He

also heard the door close behind him,

and

the

Un-

hill." felt

the

form of Gilbert

upon him. All was dark, but he was conscious that the passage which they traversed was narrow, the atmosphere dense, the ceiling but an inch or two higher than the top of his plume. Urged repeatedly by the unknown, to be careful of the form of Gilbert, to grasp him firmly, and by no means loosen his hold, even for an instant, the Grand Master counted twenty paces, when his course was press heavily

suddenly ended. " You will enter the room on the

The Grand Master extended

right,

his hand,

and await

and

felt

my

coming.'*

the panels of a door.

It

opened, and, as he crossed the threshold, closed again. It

was

a cell-like apartment, with ceiling, wall and floor of roughly

In the centre, on an old chest, a small lamp was placed.

plastered stone. It

was

evident, at first sight, that this

sunken

in the

bosom of

the

hill,

room, resembling a grave-vault, was

which ascended precipitously

in

the

rear of the old house.

Seating himself on a chest, the Grand Master gathered his robes about

him

—

for the air

surveyed the

He

was

chill

and damp

— and, with an ejaculation of wonder,

cell.

had heard of the wealth of the Order, had, indeed, been intrusted

with the control of a great portion of that wealth, but a sight,

The

which exceeded the bounds of floor

all

this

room displayed

reasonable credibility.

was covered with chests of every shape and form.

Some

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

126

were open, others closed here they were thrown together in a confused and again massy and iron-bound they stood apart. The unclosed chests were stored with gold and silver coins of every mould and form, from the uncouth Chinese money, to the round and substantial Spanish ;

—

—

pile,

doubloon.

On the closed lids were scattered stores of gold and silver plate and from the aperture of the half-opened chests, projected cloths, velvets and ;

laces, of the richest texture

and most costly dyes.

every part of the world had sent of this narrow

Wherever

cell.

It

seemed

as though

tribute to swell the countless

its

wealth

Grand Master turned, he saw nothing

the

but gold and silver coin, cloths of every pattern and hue, plate of the

most precious metals, worthy "

The

—with

heavy goblet

the veil

the delicate sculpturing

grace the board of a crowned. Despot.

to

Supreme Lodge

treasury of the

!"

he exclaimed, and, raising a

drooping over his face— he examined

still

which adorned the narrow stem and capacious

bowl. " Will no one

wake me up from

this dev'lish

Gilbert unclosed his eyes, and found

whose unearthly solemnity resembled

dream ?"

himself encircled by a scene, the

vague spirit-pictures of a

dream.

A

lamp hung from

faint light before his

only served

the dome-like ceiling of a

The

eyes.

to reveal

the

narrow

cell,

and shed

corners of the cell were dark

brown visage of

the Hunter,

who,

;

its

the light

clad in the

coat of green velvet, faced with gold, looked about him, in blank wonder.

Before him was a circular table, on which a book, huge in size, bound

was placed. Its golden clasps glimmered in the light. Around this table, three figures attired in gowns, with cowls, resembling the monkish robes of the Old World, were seated in arm-chairs of The figure, seated, directly opposite where the Hunter unpainted oak. stood, rested a small white hand upon this large volume. in white parchment,

It

was

senses

;

a long while before the hunter could recover his wandering

he remained standing before the table for the space of a quarter

word was spoken

of an hour, and in this time, not a

;

the three figures

were motionless as stone. Gilbert advanced a step, determined to touch the extended hand, and

assure himself that

it

was but

a

hand of wax or marble, not the hand of a lifted he fell

Yet, as he advanced, the hand was slowly

man. back into his original position, crossing his arms, while his features as-

living

sumed an expression of " Gilbert Morgan "

—

ness and music of

you cannot

its

sullen determination.

somewhat remarkable Condemned to death by

said a voice,

intonation

—

"

see, about to be stricken

darkness, a chance of

;

life is

by

the

hand which

offered unto you.

for the soft-

a

power

strikes

Will you accept

that

from the it

?"

"

"

:

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. It

was

the central figure that spoke, with his white

cover of the book

I'll

2?

hand resting on the

the while.

of the Hunter was characteristic

The reply "

all

J

accept most anythin'

— do

:

most everythin'

— only get

me

out of

The

wealth,

this wolf- trap."

" Not only the

you

power of

life,

but wealth and

H. A. C.

the B.

power

are offered to you.

We

are within your grasp.

as the Candidate for Initiation into

have selected

Degree of Grand Master of

the

the Order

" Initiation!" echoed Gilbert. the

Grand Lodge

him from scene

Who

?

to

"Ain't the Grand Master elected by

are you, that trap a

scene— pen him up with

man

three

in this 'ere

way— drag

unknown men,

dressed

in black, in a grave-vault, like this ?"

Without seeming

to take notice

of his words, or of the flushed cheek

and indignant glance which accompanied their utterance, the central figure continued

" There

is

no such thing as an election, or the power

The Honorable Master

by

to

elect in our

Grand Master in his turn the Grand Master is designated by a higher authority, whose exThat higher authority, is istence is unknown to the rest of the brethren. Its chief is known, not as Supreme Master, but as the Supreme Lodge. the Invisible Head of the Order. You stand in his presence now." "Grand Master !" muttered Gilbert "That were a prize indeed, for Why, I kin hardly sign my name one like me " You will never need to sign your name. The signet will bear witThe man who becomes Grand Master, must be ness of your authority. known to the world, only as the dead are known. From this hour, the name of Gilbert Morgan will only be pronounced as the name of a dead man. Again I ask you, are you willing to pass from the edge of the grave which yawns beneath you to the Grand Master's chair ?" Like a flood of light, pouring suddenly over a mass of dark clouds, a multitude of thoughts and memories rushed through the hunter's brain. He was a rude man rude in speech, bold in deed but his forehead inUtterly uneducated, dicated a mind of great and peculiar natural power. like sparks among the ashes— there lurked in the recesses of his nature the elements of a wide and grasping ambition. His eye grew brighter his as he heard the words of the figure, who called himself the Invisible clenched hand was pressed upon his forehead. " Grand Master You don't mean to say, that I, a rough backwoodsI man o' the Wissahikon, can become that ar' I sit on the throne, and, with a word, manage the Lodges of Canada, the New England ProOrder.

designated

is

—

the

;

—

!

—

—

—

;

!

!

vinces,

New

kind of you,

York, Pennsilvany, and to

make

fun of a dyin'

all

man

the South

—

—— ?

Gentlemen,

it's

not

"

PAUL ARDENHEIM

128 "

have said

I

it,

and

it

can be done

Holy Temple !" Show me the way," cried

I

!

OR*

;

swear

by

it,

Seven Watch-

the

ers of the

"

Gilbert

— " Name

the

manner

o' th' Initia-

tion."

" Listen, and in silence.

I will read to you the preparatory Lesson of Grand Master's degree." The Invisible unclosed the Book: with his white hand laid on the parchment page, inscribed with the characters of

—

the

an unknown tongue, he continued

Covenant, written

Lodge, and

in a tongue,

intelligible

to

" This

:

known only

the great

is

to

Book of the Supreme

the Elect of the

them, whatsoever their country or language.

This Book was written thousands of years ago, and bears witness of the Covenant made by the Great Being in the Temple of Jerusalem with the millions of mankind, in the

— as you

That Covenant was

day of Solomon.

are well aware, having been initiated in the Knightly degree

words

As long

:

night, so long

as the sun shineth by day,

the Jehovah,

ivill I,

listen

Poor, redress their wrongs,

and

forehead of the oppressor.

— Solomon

and

in these

the stars give light

cry of

to the

scatter the bolts of

—

my

my

by

people the

vengeance upon the

betrayed the Covenant, and died

under the Ban of the Order, the Curse of his God.

Even

his countless

wealth, his superhuman intellect, could not save him from the Traitor's

doom

!

" Yet

High

must impart

I

to

you

the preparatory lesson, or the

termed the Grand Master's degree

Priest, otherwise

—

Degree of

that would take upon himself the great work of a High must cut loose from his heart every tie of friendship or love. He must have no friend; he must love only the Brotherhood over which he desires to rule. And in order that an unworthy person may not obtain this

"

'

The Brother

Priest,

great office,

it

is

decreed

the

that

Candidate for Initiation shall pass

through a certain ordeal, the manner and form of which is left to the will of the Invisible Head, while its certain tendency must always be, to sever the heart,

devote

by an

irrevocable blow,

forever

it

to the

from

all ties

of friendship or

love,

and

Brotherhood.

" Are you ready for an Ordeal of this kind, however terrible ?"

"I am

!"

« Are you willing that your name shall never be heard on earth again

name of a living man ?" Yes willing even for that

as the

u

—

« Will

you consent

shall qualify

you

i I consent

The its

Invisible

clasped

for the duties of

You

!

!"

to enter at

Head

can't

name

once upon the Ordeal, or

your great

trial,

which

office ?"

the thing that I'm afeerd to do!"

closed the volume, and rested his

hand again upon

lid.

He seemed

gazing, from the

hunter, while a dead silence

shadow of his cowl, upon the upon the gloomy chamber.

fell

face of the

Gilbert, in

—

""

—"

—

"

THE MONK OF THE WISSAfllKON. arms

his green and gold attire, stood before the table, his

brown

features

still

crossed, his

still

compressed by an expression of unshaken resolution.

"Madeline .'"

—

The Hunter

started, but did not utter a

like electric fire

129

the

word came from

the lips of the Invisible.

word, though the name thrilled

through his veins.

" At this moment, while you stand before me, she struggles in the em-

—

Seducer You, the Plighted Husband, stand before the Supreme Lodge of the B. H. A. C, and not one mile from the spot, Madeline, your Sworn Wife, yields to her Unknown Lover." Gilbert did not speak, but shaken by an agony that he fiercely

brace of her

!

—

endeavored m

to

master

night,

and not

clenched hands

murmur 1 kisses of a man unknown groan ? Then have you the

Can you hear

returning the

— raised his

think of your wife

and on your wedding

her,

to

forehead.

to his

Can you

without a

this

become our Minister;

heart to

then have you the iron nerve, requisite for a Grand Master !" " Go on " said Gilbert, as his brown face was deformed by swollen veins

—

—

You

"

arms of it

see

don't flinch.

I

Go on

already.

" Let

it

—

the

end of

can bear even that

I

Yes, even

her lover.

that.

is

your

Mad'lin' in the

!

trial,

I'm through

?"

all this

be spoken in few words.

are willing to test your truth,

If this

If

you are

your nerve, by a

the

man we

trial that will

seek,

if

you

bind you to the

Order, and bind the Order to you, at once and forever, then take this knife " Well I see the knife go on !"

—

—

Take

— chamber of your — her lover — and

the knife, seek the

clings to

"Strike laughter

it

" True

his

to

— " That

steel into the

high purpose

is

exhibited in this ;

nothing more.

partner in his act of

shame

woman whom you demands

demand from you.

Invisible does not

Seducer's heart, and are avenged.

cowardly murder

this

Gilbert, with

a wild burst of

not hard to do."

is

that would, indeed, be an action without difficulty or danger.

;

Such a deed, the

the

heart?" shrieked

plighted wife, even as she

;

None

?

But

!

You

What

A mere

plunge your

self-denial,

what

brutal revenge, a

to punish, not the seducer, but the

man whom you hate, but who has so terribly wronged you common thoughts, an iron nerve, a heart strike,

to

not the

love, but

a soul above

unyielding as the grave

—

all

" Mad'lin' !" shrieked Gilbert, as the blood congealed in his veins

" Strike Mad'lin'

The words some ble

fell in

Strike the girl— who

broken accents

had suddenly darkened

spell

Head, pressing his hands

" Mad'lin' i

!

!

;

only— to

night

—

he could not go on.

As though

his reason, he stood before the Invisi-

to his

forehead, and muttering in

gasps—

Mad'lin' !"

And m answer, was heard the musical voice of the Invisible " Even now this girl, whom you so madly love, returns 9

his kisses.

"

" "

PAUL ARDENHEIM

130

Yes, she suffers him

;

OR,

wind his arms about her neck, and twine his At this moment, her eyes hazy, her bosom

to

fingers in her flowing hair. full

with passion, she trembles

" Mad'lin'

wished good

human shape

Strike her

!

at his touch,

won me

not love, but thou hast

—

be thine

— the girl

world.

to all the

to

who

and whispers,

'

— thine forever

never harmed a

Gilbert

could

I

"

!'

and

livin' thing,

Stab her for the villany of this Devil in

" Go, miserable man, go to her chamber, in the Farm-House, not one

Look through

mile from this hall.

chesnut

tree,

and see

all

the

window

that passes in her room.

:

you can climb

Go

the

—see her pant and

swell as her moist eyes are fixed upon her lover's face

;

hear her words

of passion, broken by the heavings of her naked bosom, and then refuse the knife, then say that Gilbert's hands

The

knife, a long

fell

you

will not

ascend the Grand Master's throne !"

from his brow, and he tottered toward the

and serpentine blade, shapen

like the

table.

dagger of the

Malay, flashed brightly on the surface of the sombre mahogany.

Which way — " he said in a whisper, that was scarcely audible— Which way — do I pass from this place ?" He seized the knife, his hand trembling in every nerve. "

"

—

" First,

you must swear an Oath,

again before the rising of the sun

" Quick

!

that you" will

appear in

this

hall

Your Oath—"

" That you will permit no one

no one, while absent on "

—

Your Oath!"

to see

this errand

—

the knife, agitated

by

your

face, that

you

will

speak

to

the tremor of his hand, clattered

against the table.

» Kneel

With

!"

the

knife

every syllable of

beams

to the scene.

his shapeless

hand

;

in its

his

hand, he knelt, heard the Oath, and repeated

The lamp gave

crowded imprecations.

On

one side of the

table, the Invisible,

its

faint

shrouded in

dark robe, with a silent and motionless figure on either

before the table, kneeling on the stone floor, the huge form of the

Woodsman, his head bowed, his hand, which grasped the knife, agitated by an unceasing motion, while his eyes shone with a mad glare, and his lips,

compressed over his

set teeth, indicated at

once the firmness and the

horror of his resolve.

"Brethren, blindfold the Candidate, and lead him forth from this

cell to

the house of Peter Dorfner !" said the Invisible.

With one movement

the silent figures rose, and approached the kneel-

who still clasped name of the Orphan

ing Hunter, tering the It

was

the knife, and gazed

might be seen, even by the dim that of a stout, perchance

and slender.

upon the

floor,

mut-

Girl. light, that

one of these cowled' forms

Herculean man, while the other was spare

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHfKON. The

bound

stoutest of the twain

a dark handkerchief tightly around the

Hunter's eyes, and, at the same moment,

A

features.

131

lifted the

cowl which veiled his

red round face, with hair and beard as white as snow, and

glowed

bright eyes, almost buried among- laughing wrinkles,

with the cowl encircling

like a dark frame around a

it,

in

the light,

warmly colored

picture. It

was

And,

the face of Peter Dorfner.

same

at the

sneering from

its

instant that his laughing face, with a deadly malice

very laughter, was revealed, the other figure raised his

cowl, and disclosed the sharp features of the

Unknown, who had

led Gil-

bert to this cell.

"

We

conduct him

will

Lodge

!" said

—

—

Most Venerable and after he more to the hall of the Supreme

to the scene

has passed the ordeal, bring him once

Peter Dorfner, in a tone of lugubrious depth, while his eyes

twinkled, and his lips grimaced in sneering laughter. "

Even

so

Thou

!

hast

said

it,

and

it

shall be

done

slender gentleman, in a tone as guttural, and with the

!"

added the

same grimace and

sneer of his partner. " Let

it

be (jone

And

await you !"

Away

!

!

Three hours from this moment, I will waved his white hand. the shadows of the cell, in the charge of

the Invisible

The Hunter disappeared in two disguised men the sound

the

;

of a door, quietly closed, was heard,

followed by the echo of foot-tramps, and

all

was

still.

CHAPTER TWELFTH. THE INVISIBLE HEAD OF THE ORDER.

The

Invisible

was

alone.

Alone, in the centre of the gloomy place, with the hanging lamp shining

down over

volume.

his

cowled head and white hand, resting on the massive all was gloom the walls of the place were lost

Around him,

;

in the darkness.

The

light

only served to illumine that solitary figure, seated beside the

table, with the

cowl over his face, and the marble-like hand extended from the black robe. We may not see his face, but a deep sigh breaks on the silence, and the white hand trembles in every slender finger.

/

PAUL ARDENHEIM

132

And while

the hour passed, this

cowl and robe, but

his

sunken

of the

the cell,

which was

the table, under the

hand placed upon the Book.

his pale

" Fools

They

!

and laugh

own

words of audible language.

soul, in the

pretend

sneer while they bind the Initiate's eyes,

to

him which they think

in scorn as they lead

this Organization,

Mystery and Power

of the humblest Lodge,

than

being, shrouded not only in

the while, he talked aloud, as though conversing with his

all

tions of

unknown

shadow and secresy of hill, remained seated by

in the

hanging lamp, with

light of the

And

bosom

in the

OR,

;

is

to his

And

!

They

work.

known

is

to

them

They

grimace, ha, ha!

complica-

its

the while, the humblest Initiate

all

not more the dupe of the Master of that Lodge,

Dorfner and his friend are mine.

Peter

affect to despise

in all

fancy that they share

and

sneer

they

Yet,

my

power, and partake

with me, in a perfect knowledge of the incredible Machinery of the

They, indeed

Order.

it

!

a pitiable

is

life

of Madeline

may

be their death, while

Both stained with

delusion.

cowardly crimes, both urging the Woodsman I,

to

in the

rough granite of that

rude Hunter's soul, already can trace the outlines of a

my

" In

deed, because the

this

Man

of Genius.

hands, he will control the Order on this Continent

hands he will go forth

to his great

my

in

;

work, prepared for every extremity, by

which will cut him off forever from all sympathy or Man. " And yet they dream those creatures of an hour, who have no thought beyond the gratification of an appetite, or the gorging of an insatiate avarice that the Order is but a cunning trick, invented yester-

this

nighVs

trial,

fellowship with

—

—

day, to cheat and bewilder baser

men

than themselves

!

" That Order has flourished for thousands of years,

known

while

10 history,

been stolen by ies of all

"Far

symbols

— the

its

very name un-

Altar, the Ark, the

forms of religion, and adapted

Urn

—have

mummer-

to the childish

shapes of Secret Organization.

—

back into the Night of Ages, we can trace the Order.

far

arose in the or King,

all

its

dawn

first

of the World,

began

to

when Man,

crush his Brother.

putting on the

name

Back, farther than the era of

Babel's Tower, back even farther than the Deluge, even into those

whose memory

ages,

is

now

It

of Priest

we may

called a fable,

dim

surely trace the

Great Secret Order. " At

first, it

had been in the

was

lost

was,

in a

among

word, the expression of Natural Religion

Altars and

Thrones

—by

the multitude of

forms and with the solemnities of symbolic worship.

the earliest form of an Idea, and therefore, the

are few, distinct and natural. civilized

man and

They have been

the savage

They who is

A

symbol

symbols of the Order

themselves

address

— which

Mankind,

alike

to

the

only one grade above the brute.

among

his pyramids,

by

by the wavelets seas of

his

received alike by the Egyptian

the polished Grecian under the clear skies and

;

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. Roman,

beloved clime, by the warlike and practical in his

Druid

and ridden

to the dust

intellect

Religion

all

by

a ferocious Religion.

known

nations have

of Moses, to his

;

the half-naked Briton

and the Hindoo, entangled among the mazes of castes,

rites,

"All ages,

133

appeared

it

People of a

Moulded anew by

Order.

this

the

Jewish

the elaborate ceremonial of the

in

later day, in the apparently unintelligible

dreams of the Cabalists. The Greek beheld it in the mysteries called it observed in the camp of the Romans its rites were Eleusinian ;

;

became manifested Chivalry, and now,

to

Europe

in

in

Europe,

in the

Truths of the Order

;

and

bolder

life

?

•

" Behold the Eternal

called

Masonry

;

a

of childish observances*

not revive the Order, and bid

than ever

it is

the place of the Great

simplicity of form and serene grandeur of

its

maze

ceremonial, are lost in a 1

year 1774,

Solomon and Hiram takes

ridiculous Fable of

" Shall

Middle Ages, under the form of

the

For Good or

Wisdom

Grand Master, who now awaits

for

live again in a stronger

it

Evil

manifested in his

doom

and

?

laws and

its

in the next

ritual

!

This

chamber, did not

dream, one hour ago, that there was such a Power in the world as the Yet, at his Initiation, he had sworn fealty to Supreme Lodge. Lodge; he had bound himself to recognise it, when*lt appeared certain form, and

by a minutely described symbol, and

holds the form and the symbol

for the first time.

by the conception of a Power, beyond and above him, he yields "And this band of Pirates and Robbers

but, bewildered

secret

the desk and counter

mense organization

The

;

he hesitates

like a slave to the master's rod.

the Pirates of the sea,

not merely the Robbers of the highway, but of

—become subject

in the

to-night he be-

first,

and incomprehensible

—not only

but of the counting-house

At

that in a

palm of

my

to

my

control.

I

hold their im-

hand."

Invisible stretched forth his white hand,

and the

light revealed his

eyes, dilating with inexplicable emotion.

" Shall

it

be for

Good

?" his voice broke in musical cadence

breathless stillness of the cell

His head drooped in his hands,

;

upon the

" or for Evil ?"

once more his cheeks, unnaturally pale, rested with-

while his eyes, almost shadowed by his hair, which

his projecting forehead,

fell

over

or gesture, to indicate that there

was

shone with a fixed and dazzling

In this posture, without a life

—

word

light.

or thought in him, he remained for the space of an hour.

No human hand may dare

to picture the

dark wilderness of his thoughts.

PAUL ARDENHEIM;

1U

OR,

CHAPTER THIRTEENTH. the ancient

Madeline

coin.

!

The moon gleams

through the narrow window, whose white curtains

are turned aside from the small panes, framed in lead, and shining over

dark coverlet of the bed, discloses the

the

snowy form reposing

in

centre.

its

by no means

It is

by

a spacious room, nor are the walls concealed

rich

purple tapestry, nor do the creations of the painter's soul glow in the moonlight, from frames profuse in gilding and decked with elaborate carv-

The

ings

windows

floor is bare

;

the walls covered with panels of dark oak

Between these windows,

the other to the south.

small bed

;

two or three quaint

chairs,

it

two

is

in the corner, stands

a

and a walnut dressing-bureau, sur-

mounted by an oval mirror, complete the scanty

And

;

give light to the narrow apartment, one looking to the west and

furniture of the room.

a very pleasant thing to see the moonlight gushing over the

dark coverlet from the southern window.

While

all

is

dreary winter,

white snow-drifts, and leafless woods, and cloudless sky without

;

while,

from the room below, echo the sounds of the midnight carouse, here, in the Maiden's bed-chamber, all is silent, and the only light that comes to bless her

slumbering form,

is

the clear moonshine, gushing through the

narrow window-pane.

She

rests

upon

the bed, her form enveloped in the folds of a white gar-

ment, which, covering her arms with

something like a hood or the

brown

its

loose sleeves, and her head with

cowl,, suffers her clasped hands,

hair twining round

moonlight comes lovingly

its

to bless

warm

and face with

But the

cheeks, to be visible.

her slumbering form, and in

its

pale

glow, she seems not a living woman, but resembles the form of a dead

Nun,

laid

upon her

sinless couch, with every limb

and feature composed

in the sleep of death.

The shadows and the moonbeams struggle for the mastery, in the dim now the light glares on the mirror and widens upon the The tread of the dancers, the mad music of the revel, echo from bed. and narrow room

the

;

room beneath, but

still

she slumbers, her virgin face looking very

pure and altogether loveable, as the white hood and brown tresses contrast her

with

dark brows,

delicately

defined

eyelashes,

warm

lips

and

rosy cheeks.

And

the clasped hands gently rise and as gently

regular pulsations of her virgin breast.

fall,

moved by

the

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. As she slumbers, her

lips

move, and the silence

135

broken by an inco-

is

herent ejaculation. "

It

is

valleys

and

field

so beautiful * * * And thou art indeed the Lord of these * * this gloomy hall where we stand, looking forth upon the !

—*

forest, the lake

and

river, smiling in the

summer

Strange dream, that speaks altogether of lordly

and valleys, with no shadow

hills

to

sun,

is

thine

!'*

and magnificent

halls,

dim the sunshine, no cloud

to

darken

the brightness of the Future

" Madeline !"

The

rays of a lamp

fell

softly over the face of the sleeping girl,

and a

countenance, almost deformed by the struggle of contending passions,

looked in upon her slumber. It was the young stranger, attired in the gray surtout, with curls of brown hair clustering around his white forehead. Lamp in hand, he had

crossed the threshold with the stealthy footstep of a

man

conscious of a

Guilty Thought; he had closed and bolted ^the door, drawn the curtains

over the southern window, and

now

stood by the couch,

—alone with

his

sleeping victim.

"Madeline!" It

was spoken

a whisper deepened by passion, but the orphan

in

girl,

wrapped in her dreams, did not hear the voice that uttered her name. Turning in her slumber, she rested her cheek upon her right arm, and Like a slumbering nun in her face was beneath the gaze of the intruder. her white garment and hood, she lay before him, a soft flush stealing over her clear brown cheek, her eyelids moving gently as their fringes shone

with moisture, her

lips parting until the

ivory teeth shone through their

glowing red.

He

laid his

hand upon her arm, and there was a sad look of determined

passion on his handsome face, as he heard the sleeper in

murmur

his

name

her dreams.

With glowing

hand grasping her arm, the enticing loveliness of her face gaze away, and his eye wandered to

his

in the light, he turned his

It was yet time to relent he might cross that threshold moment, and the sleeping girl would be saved. Ah, that some good Angel, whose solemn care it is to watch over the sleep of child-like maidenhood, had warned him back and in that moment

the bolted door.

;

in a

;

when he paused his footsteps 44

But no

!

in trembling suspense,

even beside the bed, had guided

from the room, and from the home of the Orphan Girl

The world would laugh when

Jacopo would jeer

dreams she speaks

!

She loves me, and

my name

heard the story

already mine

;

for

!

— even

even in her

!"

In silence he surveyed the sleeping

ance over her face.

is

it

girl, as

the light fell in mild radi-

—

;

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

136

"An hour

only an hour

!

•

!

And

yet a great

many

things

may

be done

an hour !"

in

His hand pressed her bared arm

;

his fingers encountered a stray tress

of her brown hair.

Hah

'

— she

She wakes

!

will utter a shriek as she beholds

me

—

all is

lost!"

While John stood spell-bound, unable up

started

into a sitting posture, her feet

to utter a

word, the young

girl

hanging over the side of the bed,

her hands slightly clasped, and resting upon the white folds of her dress.

Her eyes unclosed. John uttered an involuntary cry of terror for was unnatural and glassy they did not look into his handsome ;

their light

;

face with the

impetuous glance of voluptuous impulse, or the moist ten-

derness of powerless passion but glared upon him with the cold stare of death.

The

"

unable It

potion has killed her

to turn his

was with

glance

away from

am

guilty

—"

faltered the

young man,

those glaring eyes.

a feeling of unutterable surprise, mingled with a terror that

made

chilled every vein, and

pulsation, that the lips of the

1

Unknown

his

heart beat with a sluggish and painful

heard the

first

words which came from the

Orphan Madeline.

" Reginald Lyndulfe !" she uttered, in a voice of unnatural intonation.

The

face of

My

¥

name

John expressed the very extremity of apathetic wonder. !"

The Maiden, resting on

on the edge of the bed, her gently clasped hands

sitting

her dress, the light shining

upon her eyes, whispered,

full

in that voice, unnatural as her glassy stave

still

A great lord, the son of a- lord, he comes to home, eager to win a noble victory. With soft words and gentle smiles., eyes whose glances thrill, and tones whose music maddens, he comes to the home of the poor Orphan Girl, and comes to win her from purity and innocence, into pollution and shame. It is a noble deed " Reginald Lyndulfe

one so noble and

for

!

forest

this

look upon

fair to

!

And

the poor girl, sitting

her virgin couch, her senses wrapped in the delirium of an

upon

unknown

poison, speaks these words in the ears of Reginald, Lord of Lyndulfe, and feels that in a

moment she

forget the teachings of that

will

dream

—

wake from her dream only awake to be more completely

— only awake

to

in

her Seducer's power !"

The young man speech or motion. his

The ruddy hue

of health had passed from his face

dark blue eyes grew large and wild

nether

He was

stood beside the bed, the light in his hand, but without

to

;

an

idiotic

smile agitated his

lip.

could not speak

;

he could not find in his heart the word which

answer these incredible words of the Somnambulist, nor had he

the physical

power

to

frame an audible sound.

"

:

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON.

137

« Yes, Reginald—" she said, her large eyes yet veiled by that deathly glassiness

—"

is true.

it

In this strange sleep

name, and know your secret purposes.

real

moment

I

awake from

will

— listen

chamber,

Not one

to

line of her features

She looked

life.

;

— wonder

your words, and yield

nor a smile of the set

the coffin

dream

this

lips,

to

know your

you,

also true, that in a

is

you here,

find

in

my

a tremor of the expanded lid,

Somnambulist the appearance of

the

to

know

to their deceit."

moved; not

gave

I

It

image of Death, freshly gathered from

like a beautiful

and yet her beauty was more terrible

to

behold than the most

loathsome skull or skeleton of the charnel-house. Spell-bound, unable to advance or recede, John stood by the bed, the arm which extended the lamp, stiff and rigid as an arm of iron. He felt he could not look to the right or the the cold damps upon his forehead ;

left

him motion-

the glassy eyes of Madeline enchained him, and held

;

and dumb.

less

The wind howled dismally without he heard it, and fancied it was some strange funeral knell, tolling from an unearthly bell, rung by demon ;

hands.

Even

as the grotesque conceit flashed over his bewildered brain, there

came, crowding together, a .mass of incoherent thoughts "

The drug

has the influence of

some

devil's spell * * * It has destroyed

her reason * * * It is not her voice which I hear, but the voice of a spirit * * * So pale, so beautiful, so like a dead Maiden half-restored to life !"

Thoughts

like these

crowded over

his brain, but he could not speak a

word.

With a

She rose from her bed. over

floor, but to glide

the form of the

on the vacant "

Here

He as

—on

it,

footstep that

seemed not

like the footstep of a spiritual

young man, her hands extended, and her glassy eyes

this

very spot where

now

I

stand

—my Mother stood !"

though the same spell which wrapped her senses in

sake of God,

And

I'

Her

if

And

mercy

!

*

Spare

me

!

—

if

not for the sake of mercy, for the sake of

yet they killed her

voice, hollow

like accent, as

"

seemed

It

this

delirium,

veins with ice.

" Here she stood, and begged for

child

fixed

air.

heard the voice, but could not turn and look upon her.

filled his

touch the

to

thin^ she passed

—

and unnatural as

she said these words

yet they killed her

!

it

not for the

my

unborn

was, thrilled with a more ghost-

:

Upon

this floor, ere the first

cry of her

babe had melted on her ears, ere she had seen the face of that new-born child, they murdered her, in her very anguish and travail Mother, your !

robes are very white, but there

your

face is

very

on the brow and

fair,

lip,

but there

is is

—

blood upon their whiteness. the stain of blood

blood everywhere !"

upon

it,

too

Mother, ;

—blood

— PAUL ARDENHEIM

138

OR,

;

man

with the light shining over the untenanted bed, the young

Still,

stood there, conscious that the Orphan Girl was near him, but unable to

upon her deathly eyes, although her voice penetrated

turn and gaze

very blood.

"In

moment, Mother

a

sured tone, she spoke

and plead, not

—"

is

And,

The

brass, a heart that

light,

that slow,

as, in

daughter will kneel upon

for her life, but for her honor.

derer, but with her Seducer.

ear that

he heard her voice,

—" your

is

this

Plead, not with her

shining over the young man's shoulder, lighting

glow

faint

Murto

an

stone !"

graceful form and livid face, also shone

and imparted a

mea-

very spot,

Mother, she will pray

like you,

his

upon

the white

image

up

his

at his back,

and motionless eyeballs.

to the pale face

How shall we explain this scene ? This Orphan Girl, with her blood wrapped in a spectral somnambulism, chilled at its fountains, her bosom pulseless, her eye glassy while her soul seems to burst into a

—

—

new

life,— a

Future

once conscious of the unknown Past and the unknown

life at

we

Shall

?

—

say that

this

all

was the work of the drug adminisOr shall we boldly ?

tered not an hour ago, or the result of witchcraft

imagine that but that

lips,

bosom

it is

not the soul of the Orphan Girl which speaks from her

some

Presence from the Other World

spiritual

Let us look round the walks of our everyday thousand incidents, which

summon the

now

fills

her

?

to

life,

and explain the

us appear so dark and inexplicable.

Let us

wisdom which was called Magic, or modern Philosophy, which bears the name of Magnetism. Where our aid

to

the old-time

all

will our explanations end

the facts

— or what

for another and

and brighter

?

Where they

us appear like facts

to

more

intelligent age of the world,

reserved

is

perchance for another

state of being.

now

learn the mystery of poor Madeline's

— broke

fiercely

the stupor

Distinctly he heard that

breath for the voice of Madeline

—

blood flowed freely again

was gone

;

;

all

we can only

this history,

we may

life.

Suddenly a sound, as of a corse hurled rudely on the hard floor of the stranger.

before us,

Perchance, in future pages of

picture, not explain.

The

can only record

— the explanation

So, in relation to this incredible scene,

speechless

We

began. ;

was

from

its

coffin

— dashed

which paralyzed the senses

sound— listened with hushed

still.

the strange terror

which had held him

he could speak, but could not muster courage

to

turn himself, and look upon the maiden.

"Ah — this shall

He

is

pay dearly turned

some

devil's

for this !"

wizard-craft!

Jacopo!

Jacopo

!

You

"

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. At

his feet,

with the

first

;

139

no longer pale and spectral, but throbbing and panting, as pulses of a

new

life,

was stretched

the

Maiden Madeline,

her cheeks glowing redly against the brown curls and the white hood

;

her eyelids, half-unclosed, gleaming with the moist radiance which they could not altogether veil. " She awakes from this wizard spell

you may choose

to

—"

faltered John, or Reginald, as

designate him.

Bending over her,

light in hand,

he soon forgot

all

his terrors

— so^pn

forgot the pale, glassy-eyed maiden, in that half-slumbering image of vo-

luptuous loveliness.

" Madeline !" he softly said, while his cheek was flushed, his deep blue

warm and Lover ? He

eye,

—"Awake

passionate in

its light

It is I

!

—

it is

your

—

and as for " Husband,"

could not speak the word it only him coupled with the sneer of the World. " Marry her!" Even as she bloomed beneath his gaze, trembling softly " Reginald of into a warm and passionate life, a sneer curled his lip The world will forgive Lyndulfe, and the Peasant Girl of Wissahikon ;

—

rose .before

—

!

the

— the outrage, but a marriage — never !"

Merrily from the room below came the sounds of the midnight revel sad and knell-like the wind howled through the glen of Wissahikon

;

but

young man, bending over the half-conscious girl, did not heed the echo of the dancers' tread, nor mark the roaring of the blast. His gaze was centred upon her eyes, shining dimly through their half he seemed to gloat upon the freshness of her parted lips, the closed lids the

;

glowing warmth of her cheeks.

The bosom which, only robe, like a dead

bosom

a

moment

in its

suddenly stretched forth her arms

— started

had rested beneath the white to rise and swell. She with eyes wide open, glared wildly

shroud,

—

past,

now began

and shrunk away from the Stranger, as though his very gaze filled her with indefinable anguish. " " chamber at this lone hour about her

You

She

here

to

her

feet,

— in my

—

!

—

faltered the words, and, joining her hands, stood in her white robe

before this

unknown man,

her hair coursing freely over Her neck and

shoulders.

" Madeline, you do not love me," he slowly uttered, his voice

"

Ah — it

some dream.

is

not be so base of night

—

low and

gaze centred upon her face.

distinct, his

to

!

To

It

cannot be.

pass the threshold of

whisper words of love

plighted to another.

Ah

—

it is

to a

You

my

—

—

you would not could chamber at the dead hour

poor forest

not your voice that

I

girl,

whose

faith is

hear."

Without removing his gaze, the young man raised his clasped hands, was almost hallowed by the deep reverence which

and, in a voice that

was mingled with

its

passion, he continued:

" Madeline, will you listen to

me 1

Hear me, before you '#

reject

my

"

"

PAUL ARDENHEIM

140

Do

suit with scorn.

from

we

tence

?

Oh, when

I

"

could kneel at your feet and thank

covered his face with his hands.

Did he

— was he

of

name

afraid to take the

"Madeline, will you hands outstretched,

listen

his voice

me?"

to

fear to

God upon

face, flushed

by passion, and

her with an emotion as

"John — " she

?

broken by emotion. She could see his chest it

;

and his manly

by earnest eyes, seemed wild and singular as his own. lighted

impress

to

muttered, sinking into a chair beside the bed, as though

her strength had failed her

When

Gilbert Morgan.

— leave

complete the sen-

his lips

he cried, starting forward, his

heave and swell beneath the coarse garb that covered

Depart

stand thus

I

are indeed alone with each other, shut out

the world, and think «how often I have longed, prayed for this

all

moment,

He

OR,

condemn me unheard.

not

before you, and feel that

;

me

—" You know last

we

—leave me—

met,

I

cannot

I

—

that I told

am

the plighted

you the story of

Wife of

my

life.

Her words were incoherent, her accents tremulous and broken. As the warmed over her brown cheek, she absently tossed the tresses of

blushes

her hair aside from her face, and cast her eyes

—

— shining with

moisture

to the floor.

—

"You cannot love him!" cried the young man " That is it, Madeline. Nay, do not attempt a denial. Your own heart confirms my words." Madeline raised her eyes her face was very pale, her voice earnest

—

though tremulous as she spoke

:

" Only a month ago, beneath the withered chesnut tree that stands near

your voice. That hour saw you, my life was calm thoughtless but it was happy. An humble peasant girl, I had been cherished beneath the roof which now shelters reared in these solitudes us my only adviser, a rude Indian man, who, but an hour ago, warned me to fear you, John aye, to dread you as the Manitto of Evil. There was another friend a man, now aged, who dwells in the Monastery up the stream, and who, from the hour of earliest childhood, unclosed to my eyes the pages of the Bible, the knowledge of the world's past history. It was Father Luke, of the Wissahikon Monastery, who taught the friendthe water-side, I first beheld you,

brought

woe and madness

to

me

first

listened to

Before

!

I

—

—

;

;

;

—

Girl the speech of the great world, and the lessons of that

Orphan

less

holy Religion which says blest

— There '

is

a

to all of us,

God, and he

is

a better and a brighter world, and

even

to the

our Father.

it

shall be our

poorest and the

There

is

hum-

another World,

Home, when our bones

are dust.'

She paused, her pale cheek glowing ing,

into

sudden

life,

her eyes gleam-

and a look of almost hallowed purity trembling over the lineaments

of her face.

"And fear

you

Father Luke has warned me, John." she said, "warned as

I

would

fear the

Enemy

of

Mankind!"

me

to

"

;

THE MONK OF THE WISSAfllKON. "Madeline,

month.

true that

it is

when

since the hour

I

have only known your' name

your love dawned suddenly upon

true that

It is

Ill

saw you,

I first

I

a brief

for

my

But

soul.

own late. For love of you, Madeline, I would sacrifice all that is away from your in your presence alone I exist to me in the world ;

my

life is

dark

night withont a star

waste, without a flower

Listen to me, Madeline

!

humble

call the

I

would

girl

fling title

and lands

my

of Wissahikon

— instead

were

but the poor clerk of a wealthy Merchant,

princely estate,

dear side,

;

— Oh, dark — a dreary

my

have not been the master of

gloomy

of being as

I

am,

some

the titled heir of

I

your

at

a

;

and be proud

feet,

to

bride."

Seated on the chair beside the bed, her flushed cheek relieved by the

brown

which swept

hair,

freely from the folds of the white

hood, over

her shoulders, Madeline looked up into the face of her lover, with a senIt was not love, it was not fear. He stood some paces from her side, in the centre of the floor, the light which he held disclosing his manly face encircled by curls of waving brown hair,

sation of peculiar character.

muscular and

his

buttoned

form enveloped

agile

to the throat, relieved

outline of his chest, the

" this

are

may

It

world

lie

sinewy proportions of his arms.

am the plighted Wife Your very name —

apart. to

on the

floor

;

— " Our paths

in

You — you

—

of another.

I

me.

cast her eyes

which,

and displayed the bold

not be," she said, in a voice almost inaudible

unknown

She

in the suit of coarse cloth,

his countenance,

brighter and deeper the blushes

glowed

over her cheek.

John placed

the lamp upon a small table of unpainted pine, which stood Then, seating himself upon the edge of that couch, he took the hand which she had not the power to withdraw. Her eyes were

near the bed.

downcast, but he could

feel the

hand which he clasped grow cold as

ice,

and the tremulous motion of her white robe marked the throbbing of her bosom. "

Madeline—" he

to

say

foa

said, in a voice

to

when

You

you.

will listen to

She did not answer

unknown man

;

girl

me — listen

—

"

I

its

ac-

have a few words

silence and in patience

in

you

those words are said, I will leave

with an emotion that of this

which, low and faltering in

once enchained the heart of the poor

cents, at

for ever."

with her eyes downcast, and her bosom swelling

was denied

the blessing of speech, she felt the

hand

pressing her own, and could not withdraw her hand

from his grasp. "

You have

forest,

dwelt a beautiful

though the stream told

waves

;

girl, it

to

who

when compared with

like

did not

her, as

the

this

know

her face

and the wild rose which bloomed

withered,

Have you

read of other lands, Madeline.

book of romance, read a story something

in

that she

was

some

not, in

?— Once,

in

was

reflected in

old

a wild

beautiful, its

clear

her path, seemed pale and

warm hue

of her cheek, the moist

" \

142

PAUL ARDENHEIM

ripeness of her lips.

It

was

in

OR,

;

England, Madeline,

some shadowy

in

valley of a Yorkshire forest, that this orphan girl dwelt

and many hun-

;

dred years have passed since the dust was laid upon her bosom

As

if

—

absorbed in the memories of his narrative, Reginald pressed the

hand which trembled

his grasp,

in

and toyed absently with her flow-

ing hair.

One

"

day, as, bending over the waves, she

her, in all

its

saw her

face smiling

upon

youth, hallowed by the innocence of a stainless heart, there

came suddenly to her At once the

an

side,

peasant.

unknown man,

had won her heart, she could not look

dressed in the garb of a

him, aye, as though some spell

forest girl loved

into his face without emotion, nor

She loved him, from the very moment stream, she saw his face reflected beside her own.

hear his voice without trembling.

when, gazing in the Loved him with a love

that

Madeline shuddered.

was not without

a strange and indefinable fear."

Something there was

in.

the story of Reginald

that penetrated her heart with an indefinable agitation.

"

And

yet he

was unknown

She was even ignorant of

to her.

his

name."

The young

girl raised her eyes, and for an instant glanced upon her handsome face. Again an involuntary shudder shook her form. " For him, Madeline, this unknown man, she forsook her wild-wood valley she followed his fate into the great world. She forsook, for him, those dear old woods, in whose tranquil solitudes her form had ripened

lover's

;

beauty

into

face

;

forsook the calm waters which had reflected her virgin

;

forsook

the peace

all

and quiet of her lonely

life,

and went

forth,

unknown world." Reginald could not Madeline's head drooped slowly on her bosom read the expression of her face, nor mark her tears, but he heard her with the

unknown

stranger, into the

;

gasping breath, he "

felt

They wandered

that gently tremulous hand.

forth together

— " whispered

" Yes, unblessed by priestly rites

;

Madeline.

they went on their way, hand

One

linked in hand, and hearts hallowed in the bond of a stainless love. day, Madeline, just as the sun was setting, they stood

summit of

a

east, centred

hill,

the

with the banners of a lordly race floating from rich,

Around

on the

dusk woods stretching toward the west, while

on the wide sweep of a grassy lawn, arose an ancient

strains of music,

casements.

together

its

loftiest

deep, festival music, gushing from

that noble hall, Madeline, invested as

it

in the

castle,

tower, and

its

vine-clad

was with

the outward indications of rank and weaUh, bands of marriage guests

gay costumes

scattered, their

They

glittering

old,

from the verdure of the lawn.

awaited the return of the lord of this

land, he had taken to himself a bride.

they

knew

all

were

fair

Whether

domain.

In

rich or poor,

some far young or

not; but word had been received that he would return to

his castle, at the

hour of sunset, with

this

unknown

wife on his arm."

"

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. The

story

bosom

seemed

143

Her

absorb the very soul of the Orphan Girl.

to

her face averted, she surrendered her hand, her arm, to

fluttering,

the grasp of Reginald, and awaited in undisguised suspense the conclusion

of the old-time Legend. " The peasant girl, standing on the hill-top

— her

rudely clad lover

her side, beheld this scene, as the soft warmth of the invested her face with

"

'

new

loveliness.

indeed beautiful V she said, her eyes enchained by the scene

It is

—

which stretched beneath her distance,

"

Her

by

summer evening

feet

'

comes gently over the lawn lover did not answer her.

wrinkled, you

may

Hark

how

!

the music, softened

His

face, not altogether

hideous or

be sure, although his rough garb indicated a

—

by

!'

life

of

was shadowed by an emotion which the peasant girl could not comprehend. There was a sad look upon his brow, but around his lips, a smile hung trembling; it was as though joy poverty and want,

his face, I say,

—

and sorrow contended

He "

for the

did not speak to her

He

—

did not speak to her

mastery on the lines of his countenance.

— " echoed Madeline, without

seeming con-

scious of the words.

" No, Madeline

down

but led her gently

;

the hill-side.

which stood by the roadside, they went

lofty gates

Through

bling nearer to him, afraid, in her peasant garb, of all this

He

splendor.

and through the marriage guests, in

his side, they passed over the lawn,

the

"

and up the great steps of the ancient

his Bride."

Let us depart,' she faltered

poor and humble

upon our mean "

And she «

Look

*

This

is

no place

attire.

—

for us.

We

are but

" '

waved over

his shoulders.

up,' cried her lover, speaking the

I

castle,

awaited the coming of

buried her head upon his breast, clinging to his arms for

'and behold our

" Need

—

office,

these great people, so richly arrayed, look with scorn

;

support, as her long hair "

solemn

a Priest, in the robes of his

young Lord and 4

music and

took her silently by the hand, and as she clung closer to

their glittering costumes,

where

the

together, she trem-

home

!'

name

of his Peasant Bride,

"

pursue the story, Madeline

?

Need

I tell

to

you the wonder

and the joy which covered the face of the Peasant Girl with new beauty, as she heard her

unknown Lover addressed by his Lordly home ?"

title,

and

felt

her footstep press the threshold of her princely

His voice deepened by emotion, his hand entwined about her neck, her cheek drooping nearer

to his

own,

his eyes

of her face, which seemed to ripen into a his gaze.

She trembled

at his

tears.

"

It is

a beautiful

dream

touch

— " she

;

devoured the warm loveliness

more luxuriant beauty beneath her downcast eyes were filled with

faltered.

—

"

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

144

No

"

dream, Madeline, no dream

M Truth

!"

mean you

?"

She

lifted

It is truth, all

!

" Pardon the deception, Madeline.

I

said that this

valley of England, in the ages long since past. beautiful valley

own

her

;

truth."

form the incarnation of

maiden

is

and here,

set with countless stars. at

her

feet,

It

is

in a in a

all that

is

beautiful in

when

the valley of the

the blue

Wissahikon

;

behold her lover in his rough peasant garb !"

He sunk beside her, clasping her hands within his own. No peasant, but the heir of a lordly line. Yes, Madeline, "of

What

lived

"

Lord

"

She does dwell

cloudless skies, or unruffled waves, or the deep sileat night,

heaven

—

her gaze, and beheld his earnest face

Reginald,

Lyndulfe, asks your love, and beseeches the Orphan Girl of

Wissahikon

become

to

his bride."

"Reginald of Lyndulfe their tears,

assumed

!"

murmured Madeline, and her which had

the glassy appearance

eyes, even amid

veiled their bright-

" moments before. " I have heard that name With her hands upon her forehead, she seemed absorbed in some painful memory. Meanwhile, Reginald, clutching her robe with a tremulous ness but a few

grasp

— passion

heaving violently, his

flashing eyes, his breast

his

in

parted lips and brow deformed by swollen veins

more

half-veiled face, as he whispered once

"

Be mine, Madeline

was broken,

his

!

Be mine

— looked

up

into her

the frenzied request.

power

rank

"

his voice

words incoherent.

No answer came

lips of the forest girl. While her hands became death-like and crimson by turns, and the folds of her robe, or garment, call it as you will, were violently agitated by the impetuous swelling of her bosom. She could not speak a word It was the decisive moment of her fate. but, as if enveloped by the frenzies of a dream, she felt his in answer

from the

veiled her eyes, her cheek

;

arms

encircle her waist, and could not resist their pressure.

burning kiss upon her

lip,

She

and could not turn her face away.

felt his

His hand

—

toyed with the loose tresses of her hair his gloating eye surveyed the bosom she trembled in his embrace, and,

half-revealed whiteness of her

;

unable to move, sank on his encircling arm, her eyes swimming in the light of

powerless passion.

" Reginald

—

•"

she faltered, as though some

memory had flashed upon " On this very spot

her, like a lightning spark from a midnight cloud

eighteen years ago

—My Mother— — pleaded

destroy the honor of her child

—

for her life

— do not—do not

!

The kiss of the lover drowned the maiden's earnest words. The sound of the dance, the echo of song had died away.

All was room below a deathly stillness reigned throughout the farmThere was no sudden blast of wind, howling through the gorge house. No voice was of Wissahikon, to break the midnight quiet of the scene. silent in the

—

,

"

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. heard

warn

to

back

the Seducer

145

in his career of treachery

;

in his arms,

blushing and powerless, the maiden hung, her lips pressed again and

by

again

his guilty kiss.

But, from the withered chesnut tree,

the panes of the western

window,

whose

branches touched

leafless

by agony more

a face distorted

terrible

than death, was gazing on the Maiden's peril with glaring eyes. " Mad'lin' !" exclaimed a rough voice,— but

of the

it

did not reach the ears

nor excite for an instant the attention of Reginald Lyn-

girl,

dulfe

Arid on the outer side of the bolted door, a crouching figure bent in the

darkness, his ear laid against the panels, as the words

broke the deathly

Tempter

of the

stillness.

" She- yields !" muttered the tremulous voice of an aged

man

—"In

a

mocked me And while the figure of Gilbert, revealed by the cold moonlight, was seen upon the limbs of the chesnut tree, his face against the window

moment,

Ah

all is lost

The

!

!"

fiend has

frame, the knife shining in his hand

— while

the old

the darkness of the passage, listened for the fatal the maiden's

man, enshrouded

word which was

shame, Reginald of Lyndulfe, pressing

in

to seal

his lips to the burn-

ing cheek of Madeline, gathered her closer to his breast. "

Come

Fly with

!

me

to

night

— this

hour

— this

"

moment

Frenzied by his guilty passion, he said these words, and did not that the Lie of his heart

was written upon

his forehead,

feel

darkened by the

swollen veins.

—

—

Mercy I am but a poor weak girl alone in the world With a last effort, she endeavored to free her lip from his kiss, her The effort was vain'. Her loosened hair waist from his tightening arm. "

!

floated over his shoulders, as his kisses

burned her

lips.

Gilbert, clinging to the withered limb, beheld the flushed face of Regi-

and

nald,

laid

one hand upon the sash of the narrow window.

pressed against the glass, was hideous with hatred and despair.

would

of his sturdy arm, and the sash

him

before

fall

There silk

your

a

is

kisses

—"

Gilbert muttered through his

gay dress beneath your coarse gray coat

By

and di'monds. "

The Huntsman,

* * *

ber, felt the withered to

grasp

a^

I'll

make

it

teeth

— "Hah!

a spangled dress of

gayer and brighter with

laying one hand upon the sash, grasping the knife with

the other, his eye dilating as

vored

!

set

—

face,

with his right

;

hand he clutched the knife.

"Warm

His

One blow

it

was

rivetted

by the scene within the chamWith an oath, he endea-

limb bend beneath him.

higher branch of the tree, but the knife

fell

from

his

hand, as the withered limb, with a sudden crash, snapped under his weight.

He fell

;

the knife clattered

upon a heavy mass of granite 10

at the foot

of

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

146

For an

the tree.

instant the

Huntsman saw nothing but

his consciousness,

a vague blank,

When

heard nothing but the echo of the snapping branch.

he found himself hanging by the arms

limb of the huge chesnut, his

dangling near the earth.

feet

he recovered the

to

lowest

Above him

shone the window of Madeline's room. " Curses on

ment it

They

!

it

!

I'm crazy,

does not need their watchin'

Releasing his hold, he and, placing

believe

I

are watchin' me, too

it

fell

between his

clomb from limb

to limb,

the clear heavens the

to

on

teeth,

To

!

my

lose

— watchin'

make me go

hold at sich a mo-

from yonder thicket.

from the stone,

his feet, picked the knife

began

to

But

forrad now.'"

ascend the

Once, as he

tree.

he turned his head over his shoulder. Through

moon was

The

shining brightly.

thicket near, and the distant woods,

farm-house, the

were darkly contrasted with the

glitter-

ing waste of pure white snow.

They watch me from the thicket !" muttered Gilbert, as he sprang upon a limb, which commanded a view of the interior of Madeline's "

chamber. As the stout Huntsman, whose brain was somewhat bewildered

by the events of

this

crowded

an oath escaped from his

He saw

that

night, looked through the

window

panes,

lips.

chamber by the rays of

the lamp, the bed yet bearing the

impress of the maiden's form, the quaint, old-fashioned furniture, the dressing-bureau, and the door which led into the corridor of the farm-

house.

—

But neither Madeline nor her seducer were visible. the limb— on which Gilbert poised his weight, grasping a branch

From

above him

—

window, was a dangerous leap, but he did not pause to bound he reached the window, dashed the sash hung on hinges and opened like a door and in an instant

to the

think.

With

before

him— it

a desperate

—

stood in the centre of the chamber, beside the maiden's bed. All

was

silent there.

— she has

" They've gone together

fled

with him

— " the

features of the

Hunter, distorted by rage, became softened suddenly by a look of rude but unutterable anguish. "Mad'lin'

!

This

is

a

little

too hard to bear.

gfood and pure as you was, that an angel couldn't scarcely be a " Now in a few hours all your goodness gone thing

"

clenched the knife, and gazed wildly round the chamber.

Yer

Bible's thar, gal

'a torn his

—and you could do

it

!

But

heart into splinters for you

Leave the man it's

his

tnat 'ud

work, his devil's

"

tongue

He

—

—

—

He

So

better

turned, and, with a cry of surprise mingled with hatred, beheld that

the door leading into the corridor "I'll follow you,

yer blood

my

fine

was open.

feller,

and paint yer spangled feathers with

!"

As he rushed

to the door, his

purpose

—

it

was Murder

— written on

his

""

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. sound

face, a

was scarcely

that

147

audible, so low, and like the echo of a

rustling leaf, arrested his footsteps.

Again he turned, and, near the foot of the bed, beheld the unconscious

She was stretched upon the floor; her eyes were by her side. The dress had been torn from her bosom by a rude grasp; upon those globes, whose veins, like threads of azure, were traced beneath the transparent skin, the livid print form of Madeline.

closed

;

her arras lay stiffened

of a brutal hand was visible.

His face was from the

Gilbert knelt beside her.

which streamed The agony

light,

over the back of his head, glowing upon his chesnut curls. that convulsed his features

No

was

shadow.

lost in the

groan came from his compressed

lips

;

perchance the light of con-

tending love and hatred grew deeper and wilder in his eyes, but not a

sound betrayed his agony. " Beautiful

which, as be

my

with yer brown hair about yer pale face, an' that bosom,

gal,

much

as

loved you, and as often as you had said you'd

I

wife, I never yit dared to touch, or look

bare, with the

print of his

hand upon

upon

Beautiful

it.

— an' !

that

An Angel

bosom fresh

from 'tother world couldn't be purtier; but—"

The

knife

which he grasped, rested

At once the memory of trembled like a

bed

at

man who

shining point

came over

upon

the floor.

he

the hunter

beholds some horrible Apparition rising by his

dead of night.

" She don't breathe. she'll

its

his strange mission

only wake up

be a blessed thing

her

to kill

The bosom moved motion of a

It's

By

* * *,

by

girl.

think

it it

is,

'ud

as gentle as the

And as it fluttered ribbon, wound about the

a sleeper's breath.

with that soft motion, Gilbert beheld a faded

neck of the insensible

I

!'

— very slightly— with a pulsation

feather, agitated

As

dead already.

likely that she's

misery and shame

to

To

this

ribbon was attached a small coin,

which lay upon her breast, and rose with the almost imperceptible pulsation. The huntsman lifted her head, and took the ribbon from her neck. In the action his hand encountered her luxuriant tresses, and the strong

man

felt

the tears start into his eyes.

Not

for the world, or the

wealth of

a thousand worlds, would he have touched that bosom.

M

It

was

stainless once

— pure

as the drifted

snow

Holding the small coin, or medal, toward the

— now —

light,

he endeavored

in

vain to decipher the strange figures which were inscribed

The

metal was gold

;

it

was very

bright,

upon its surface. and worn smooth as glass, as by

the pressure of countless hands.

"

I can't

read

In silence he

it,

gal, but I'll take

wound

it

as a

of you

—

the ribbon round his neck, and then, with a qui-

vering hand, placed the point of the knife

" In the name of the

memory

Covenant—" he

upon her bosom.

gasped, and at the same

moment

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

149

She beheld that face, convulsed with agony, the girl unclosed her eyes. wet with tears she felt the sharp point of the knife. Behind the hunter, with a stealthy footstep, which he did not hear, came the bent figure of an old man, whose blue eyes shone with a cold, ;

beheld the knife resting upon the beautiful bosom of

icy light, as he

Madeline. " Gilbert !" even in that

Nearer

stole the old

moment

man,

"It ain't no use now, Mad'lin'

with a

profound despair — "

His hand was upon the

of half-consciousness she

knew him.

his pale face writhing in every nerve.

It's

hilt

—"

said the Hunter, his face

glooming

too late !"

— and the blood

started, as the point entered

the white breast of Madeline.

A

sound of half-suppressed laughter disturbed the

silence,

and in the

door-way appeared the rotund form and white-bearded face of the jovial Peter Dorfner.

CHAPTER FOURTEENTH. THE INSCRIPTION ON THE ANCIENT

COIN.

"For Good or for Evil?" muttered the Unknown, whom we by his own title The Invisible Head of the Brotherhood.

can only

—

call

His hour of

silent

tures, as he glanced its faint

thought was over

around the silent

;

cell.

warmed his The hanging lamp still

a slight flush

fea-

cast

rays over the gloom, and lighted up that solitary figure seated by

the table, his cheeks buried in his hands.

"

A

footstep

— one only —

he return alone

?

is it

Morgan

the footstep of Gilbert

Has he braved

?

Does

the peril of the Ordeal ?"

While these thoughts, only half-spoken, occupied the mind of the Invigrew more distinct a figure approached from the dark-

sible, the footstep

ness of the

A

cell

—

— a clanging sound disturbed the

stillness of the place.

knife lay on the table, before the gaze of the Invisible,

At first, he did not notice the wretched man who stood before him, his muscular form agitated by an involuntary tremor, his gay apparel of green Nor did he remark the cadaverous face, and gold torn and disordered.

whose

livid

cheeks only made the wild eyes and restless

lips

more

pain-

fully distinct.

His eyes rested upon light.

the knife, as, grasping the hilt,

he raised

it

in the

— THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. "It

is

The

well!"

blade was red

;

shone no longer

it

but, as the Invisible held

;

his grasp, a blood-drop, oozing from the point, fell

" Is

149

done

it

?

—"

he surveyed

the

on the

horror-stricken

it

in

table.

features

of

the

Hunter.

The wretched man made an by

moved

lips

as

if

agitated

a spasm, but he could not utter a syllable.

He

his agitated face,

"

like a

"

Man.

He

"

fearful

eloquence in

was

the Ordeal

;

but you have passed

fearful,

it

Yes, like a Brother of the Covenant."

has," said a voice, speaking from the dark recesses of the cell

saw him

I

something of

;

and sunburnt hand, pressed forcibly upon his chest.

need not ask you

I

There was

pointed to the knife, and laid his hand upon his heart.

something impressive in his silence

"

The

without success.

effort to speak, but

muscles of his throat writhed convulsively, his

And

strike the

blow."

also beheld the knife as

I

it

bosom" — another

pierced her

voice

was heard. Shading his eyes with

gazed in the direction

his hand, the Invisible

from whence these sounds proceeded, and beheld the rotund form of Peter

Dormer, with Master

—" and

at the

of their footsteps presently died away.

was with an expression of

And

so

you buried your

it

your victim crouched

your

at

scorn, that the Invisi-

Morgan.

bosom

knife in her

loved her in a rude way, but with as

by

pity, imbittered

ble looked into the face of Gilbert

"

his side.

proper signal, conduct the late Grand

to this cell."

The echo It

companion by

his slender

" Retire !" he said

all

feet,

your

?

You

loved her, too

;

Did your hand tremble,

soul.

and saw the

steel flash

over her ere

fell?"

Gilbert did

by

not.

Trembling, pale, his hands hanging motionless

speak.

his side,* he looked vacantly into the face of the Invisible.

"

It

seems

to

me

that

her

attire

bitter

can imagine the scene.

I

warm upon

the kiss of her lover yet

her

lip.

You found her, with own chamber, with

In her

disordered, and her cheek flushed with passion.

words between you

—

fierce

There were

reproaches on your part, sullen replies

lips. Yet no impulse of love, no touch of compassion, held you back in your work of murder. She knelt to you a very beautiful a kneeling girl, with her brown hair floating thing it must have been

from her

—

—

over her bare bosom.

which not long ago in

your eye

'

Gilbert

thrilled

—resolved to do

!'

she cried, speaking in the same voice

your heart-strings. the deed,

you

But there was no mercy

raised your arm, and

bosom that heaved before you.—" The hunter tottered backward, and, sinking on one knee,

mangled

the

face to droop

toward the

floor.

suffered his

"

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

150

The

hand

Invisible raised his

moment. " Yet let me ask another

and was

his forehead,

to

Was

question.

the girl

who

silent for

a

received her

death at your hands a pure or a dishonored thing ?"

Bending over the

he saw the kneeling form rock to and

table,

but

fro,

received no answer to his question.

"

Ah

—

She was dishonored

perceive the truth of this matter.

I

—you

could not have plunged your knife into a virgin heart." Gilbert's face

was

toward the

lifted

Again his

speechless despair.

light,

every feature agitated by a

moved, but he could not frame a

lips

sound.

Where

"

did you leave the

Tottering to his his clenched

hand upon

"Look ye — "

enough

to do, jest

say

I'm afeerd

to do.

Where

did

he

V

body

Hunter advanced one step forward, and flung

the table.

cried, his voice

husky and

done your devil's work

that I've

you might have Thar is the it.

"

feet, the

a little pity for

knife,

You

me.

and here

I

am.

Even

?

Arter this night's work,

it.

me

told

If

—

— "Isn't

you are a born

it

devil,

her— I've done for me

to kill

you've anythin' more I

don't

Speak out — speak out you leave the body ?" repeated

hand with a peculiar motion,

indistinct

if

know

the thing that

the Invisible, waving his

as he fixed his eyes

upon

the huntsman's

face.

As though

that

waving hand, those eyes,

fired

with peculiar

light,

been the outward indications of a supernatural power, the Hunter's tures

became suddenly

eyes fixed and glassy, his form

rigid, his

stiff

had fea-

and

motionless.

Like a dead

man

placed in an erect posture, he stood beside the table,

while the Invisible surveyed his stiffened form and rigid face, with a calm delight, or rather a look of smiling

"

Where The lips

complacency.

did you leave the body ?"

moved

of the Hunter

languidly, while every other feature

was

rigid as the features of the dead.

" In her

woodsman's

own room — "

said Gilbert, speaking no longer in his blunt

accent, but in a voice that

cation and refined manners.

" In her

seemed

to indicate a

own room,

man

of edu-

with her bosom covered

with her blood, and her glassy eyes fixed upon the ceiling."

" Are you willing to obey

me now

—obey me

in

every command, with-

out a look or gesture of disobedience ?"

"I am

The

!"

Invisible

knocked

thrice

upon

the table with the hilt of the knife,

and ere the sound had died away, the form of the Grand Master, clad the

glittering

robes

of his

office,

advanced from the shadows.

bronzed features were dimly discernible through the lace

veil

which

in

His flut-

"

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. As he came near,

tered from his forehead.

151

drew the cowl

the Invisible

over his face. " Take the coronet from your brow."

The Grand Master head, and with

The

outlines,

plume and white

His face was

veil.

features

re-

;

—

— indicated a proud and sensual nature.

eyes shone wildly with "

the coronet of golden leaves from his fore-

lifted

the slender

were not altogether unhandsome their regular powdered and curled after the fashion of relieved by dark hair

vealed.

the time

it

What would you

terror,

But

moment, the

at this

and the forehead was damp with moisture.

?" he exclaimed, in tones

by no means calm or

firm.

"Place the coronet upon the brow of the Grand Master Elect—" the white hand of the Invisible pointed toward Gilbert's rigid face. It

was with a look of

terror that the

His terror was not without

deposed Grand Master obeyed.

sufficient cause, for the glassy eyeballs

fixed features of Gilbert resembled the face of a corse.

wound

bled as he

the golden leaves about the

brown

hair of the hunter,

and arranged the plume over his forehead, and saw his ghostly

by the veil. The deposed Grand Master turned once more to " The Robe " and again the white hand was

and

His hand tremface, but

half-concealed

—

the cowled figure. stretched toward Gil-

bert's form.

There was a glance of sullen and curling of the cided

lip,

regret, a

momentary

flashing of the eye

as the gorgeously arrayed personage heard this de-

command.

• The Robe

— " the voice of the

The Grand Master seemed

was

Invisible

to hesitate,

stern and penetrating.

but in an instant stripping the

purple garment, glittering with the dagger, the skull, the vine leaves, and other emblems, from his shoulders, his form

costume of a silken vest

No

of the world.

it

A

was

disclosed, attired in the

wide-skirted coat, fringed with lace,

— he was altogether an elegant and finished upon the shoulders of the Grand Master —

and cambric

gentleman.

"Place

man

slave, crouching

ruffles

under fear of his master's lash, could have obeyed for he inserted Gilbert's

more readily than the deposed Grand Master, arms

in the flowing sleeves,

and fastened the garment over

his

broad chest,

without a word. Gilbert stood arrayed in the robes of the

C, his

rigid features

seen

—through the

veil

Grand Master of

— with

the B.

H. A.

a half-distinctness, that

made them look more unnatural and death-like. The late Grand Master, with the moisture starting from

only

every line of his face agitated by

mands of the Invisible. " To-morrow morning ton.

You

fear,

a ship sails from the City,

will take passage

his forehead,

awaited in sullen silence the com-

on board of

that ship,

on a voyage to Can" he drew

and

—

— PAUL ARDENHEIM

152

monkish gown

a letter from his

You

paper.

now

can

— " obey the orders contained — " looking toward the form of in

this

Brethren

retire.

Dorfner and his companion

OR,

;

—"

I

The deposed Grand Master

man

leave this

your charge."

to

turned, without a word, and disappeared

in the shadows.

Once more the Invisible was alone with Gilbert Morgan. "Cast your eye into the Hall of the Grand Lodge," said

the cowled

— " What do

you see and hear?" This command seems like an idle mockery

Figure

For thick walls and

to us.

from the Hall

which Yet the answer of Gilbert, conveyed guage of an educated man, was plain and to the point

dreary passages separate

Lodge "

cell

this

in

are assembled.

The

burning

lights are

fast

toward

The

their sockets.

the

Brothers look

toward the door, and murmur the name of the Grand Master. await his coming with feverish suspense.

exclaims

[

we

Shall

the presence of the

"

— well "

It is

fools of the

Stay

!

A

Grand

in the lan-

Brother

They

rises,

and

not close this session of the .Grand Lodge, without

Grand Master V "

and a smile

world would

stole over the face of the

call this

Magic,

or,

Invisible—"

perchance, doubt that

it

The ever

So, three hundred years, or scarce three hundred years ago,

occurred.

it

was Sorcery on the part of Galileo to say that the earth moved round the That Sorcery is now become Science. And ere an hundred years, sun. this Magic, which enables me to substitute my will for the will of this rude man, in a word, to fill his brain with my soul, will be no longer the wisdom of the devil, but the system of an acknowledged Science. So

—

goes the world

!"

was almost demoniac

It

in

its

scorn

—the cold smile which

agitated the

face of the Invisible.

"

You

will

words

to the Hall of the Grand Lodge," he said, upon the face of the Hunter, " and speak the your heart."

go without delay

fixing his dazzling eyes that I will utter to

Attired in the robes of his office, dazzling from head to foot in the

paraphernalia of the Order, Gilbert turned away, and, with measured steps, departed into the

his footsteps

The

shadows.

had ceased

Invisible laid his white

upon the

table, as

"They

are

all

Ere

a

moment was

hand upon the heavy volume which rested

he pushed the cowl back from here

gone, the echo of

to disturb the silence.

—"

his forehead.

he muttered, as he unclosed the volume

— "a

brave and bloody band, whose deeds extend over the history of two cen-

Some

turies.

children

nage

—

—

this

died in their peaceful beds, encircled by weeping grand-

others on the bloody deck,

rude fellow on Tyburn

amid the smoke and flame of carand his comrade at the yard-arm

tree,

of one of his Majesty's ships-of-war. signature

of Sir

Henry Morgan

—

Here

I find

here, the clerkly

traced the crooked

hand of the bold

—

"

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. Captain Kidd

—and

next comes

153

mark of Blackbeard— a roughly

the

A

sketched dagger, beside a skull and cross-bones.

bloody and ferocious

"

band

Turning over the broad pages, the Invisible continued— The time will come when their deeds will appear but as the

"

Then

fables of tradition.

the link

which bound

heroes in one great organization, will be lost

booter

— as

—

falsehoods.

'

Survive'

—

unknown

the light reveals the face of this

wet with womanish

bright eyes,

" Survive

have loved evil

to,

—

to

turies ago

It is

!

day

know

you

we may even

To

a sentiment that

words

you, never is

call

Chief of the Republic'

until the

4

embodied

The

Survive

'

Invisible started from the chair,

For the

cell.

in that

time

first

it is

— Survive '

Republic'

is

'

is

cen-

own

Yes,

!'

our Brother, the

crushed beneath the

There are a great many

!'

and paced along the

floor of the

whose

evident to us that his pale face,

gled hair waves from Beneath the cowl,

you

at the same time, be conscious you by name, never, never feel

not hatred and loathing.

—and word —

see

turned

whom you knew

our Lord the King' are displaced by

'

is

descendants of your

iron wheels of Despotism and Superstition. things

live until all that

while every good impulse

to live

your path, and,

in

we may

behold the large

tears.

children, nay, the

see their

to

that they can never for

—

I

personage, who, seated

walk around among the tombs of those

—

children, rise every

until the

yes,

;

indeed a horrible word.

grave-yard dust

is

And

brazen

at their

alone in his oaken chair, thus mutters absently to himself, the pale features quiver in every line

the free-

word—"

a fearful

it is

—

and murder.

and smile

I

Grave men

the pirate

isolated facts in the red history of piracy

— — may survive to read their grave volumes, As

— forgotten.

and speak of the buccanier

will write histories,

idle

these cut-throats and

all

tan-

supported by a strangely distorted

the disguise of the gown, we may discover the outhump, rising at the back of his neck, and his face seems be supported by a neck, as to rest upon the surface of his

Even through

form.

lines of a shapeless

not so

much

to

broad chest.

"Always condemned a

doom

raft,

to feel the

to the

like this

?

beauty of the Good, and

Even now

without rudder, oar, or

shines from the dark shore. his

arms as

if to

grasp

and surely away night.

The

it,

fate of the

sail,

his

but every

js

light is

gaze upon the

moment the

and farther

and yet

for ever

can

tide is bearing

raft is

which

light

him

beneath

—but every moment

silently

and the

my

feet,

the dark

farther into the blackness of hopeless night.

growing dim and

rival

light, stretch forth

into the blackness

The

mine.

the light shines faintly from the shore

me

it,

eye turned toward the

He may

mariner

to love

hell of priestcraft

behold a mariner, fixed upon a shapeless

I

— away, deeper

of Necessity bears

What

Necessity of Evil.

dimmer— soon

it

will go out in blackness

wave

The

—yet

—— PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

154

still the wave will bear me on, on, into that Sea of hopeless Evil which yawns beyond me !" The cowl was thrown aside, and with the cowl, the monkish gown. Beneath the light stood a deformed hunchback, whose long face, framed

in raven black hair, revealed, in every quivering lineament, a despair too

deep

for utterance, too hopeless for tears.

known

In the personage

the miserable maniac,

by

the

as the Invisible,

whom we

we beheld none

other than

have beheld before, and heard addressed

name of Black David.

Clasping his white hands, as that unutterable despair stamps his

face,

he glares upon the darkness with fixed eyeballs, muttering again, and yet again, the

word which has roused him

into this preternatural anguish

"'Survive.'" In the very midst of this inexplicable despair, his eyes wandered to the floor

—

a

bright object

glimmered

there, near

his

Without

feet.

down and grasped

appearing conscious of the action, he bent

it,

and the

which a faded ribbon was

light disclosed a small golden coin or medal, to

attached.

No

sooner did the hunchback behold

it,

and

at a

glance read the words,

and mark the characters which were inscribed upon

this

medal, then he

sank on his knees, uttering a cry of joy, which pealed upon the of the

cell.

turned

first

With one

the gestures of a

side,

then the other,

madman, he clutched to the light,

stillness

the medal

and examined

it

with an

intense scrutiny, that forced his eyeballs from their sockets.

" Here, where the hunter stood, once, and force

him

started to his feet,

back again. "

It is

upon

the

same

to reveal to

made one

I

found

me how

it

—the same — " and

wound — upon

He examined

Ah— I

will seek

him

into his possession."

step from the table, but as suddenly

at

He

came

#

lifting

the medal, he revealed the livid cross,

scar of a

it.

came

the tangled locks, as he gazed

which was stamped

—

like the

the fair skin of his forehead.

the bright side of the

Medal— it

bore the figure of a Cross,

—

!

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. with certain numerals inscribed

on the opposite

the medal, he beheld,

characters: " Eola

may

It

beneath — "

— November

12.

Then, turning

an inscription in old English

— Lyndulfe."

illegible.

6,

on the

first

side

seemed, as the light shone

It

represent either the figure 3 or 8, and thus the inscription either

to

it,

—9."

15

a. d.

be observed that the figure between the 5 and

of the medal, was dim and almost over

side,

155

designated the year 1539 or 1589.

The hunchback

was

held the faded ribbon, which

ture near the rim of the medal,

inserted in an aper-

and gazed upon the inscription which

it

bore on either side, with a delight that might have well been termed

madness. "

I

him

will to

— he

shall tell

me

With

!"

these incoherent words, he

turned from the table once again, and disappeared in the shadows of the

only

cell,

to

reappear after the lapse of a moment.

the' light, his

face

was flushed with rapture,

but,

upon every

beside the table, a ghastly paleness had fallen livid cross

on

—the hunter has torn — " he uttered the words with

ror,

mingled with anguish.

" Madeline

" 0, curses, eternal curses lies

mangled upon the

hunter's blow

— the his

my iron

floor of her

its

from her breast as a

Then came

difficulty.

fate

Behme

Madeline

!

chamber, or

scalpel of Isaac

the living heart from

As though

upon

it

—

Day

is

;

—she

of his

a groan of hor-

at this

moment

pierces her bosom, and tears

it is

too late ;

!

saved

This

girl

breast.

might have saved me,

me from the unseen hand which me the word which will

might have spoken unto

bring near the hour of

dered her

memory

blood was chilled, his limbs paralyzed, the deformed

breaking, and

me

The

shrine !"

not from Death, but from Life

crushes

again stood

feature.

in case she survived the

maniac stood motionless, with his hands folded over his "

he turned from

on the colorless skin.

his forehead stood out distinctly

love

When

when he

my

Death

—and — I,

fool,

dotard

!

have mur-

I

!"

Once more his gaze was rivetted to the medal " Many, many years centuries of torture since first it passed from my hand ah It is in vain I cannot pray. To whom shall I address a Prayer ? At this hour I would barter the gold of a world I would

—

exchange only

to

—

—

!

intellect

;

—

and destiny with the

have the power

to

vilest serf,

only to-be able

to believe,

"

frame one word of prayer

Strange and incomprehensible words from the lips of the Deformed

Maniac

—

He was on his knees, his hands crossed, his head bowed his lips moved slowly, but no sound was heard. The light, streaming above him, glowed upon the flakes of his matted hair.

His face was

lost in

shadow, but the heavings of his broad chest

betrayed the emotion that thrilled every avenue of his

life.

— —

—

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

156

—

To whom shall I pray?" he muttered, after a pause "To God? To saints or angels ?" his voice was marked by a horrible sincerity as he continued "There is no God to me. No Christ, nor "

To

Christ?

—

—

There

Saint nor Angel.

no other world.

is

the grave but vacancy and slumber.

here upon the earth, doomed gling in

my heart,

—

is

nothing beyond is,

to blight virtue

to

— —

do Evil

and beauty

to

crush pure hearts

to taint children

the leprosy of sin, and wither gray-haired age into a polluted grave. is

my doom — what

hath prayer to do with

Let us suppose

for a

truth.

That he has

Good always

of

crime

me

?"

that the reveries of this

some hundreds

for

with

This

man

are sober

of years, with the impulse

fresh within his heart, and yet the Necessity to do Evil

him

for ever hurling

moment

lived

am

that I

with impulses of good always strug-

to live

and yet always forced

misery

into hopeless

There

All that I can believe,

into the vortex of crime.

—say, the most

fearful

crime that

Man

That

for

some

can commit

incredible

— he has

been

doomed to live, and live beyond the circle of Almighty compassion. That the death which he seeks as an unutterable boon is denied. him that the Judgment pronounced by Eternal Power upon his head is comprised in this stern decree

There

"Live!

Good

is

all

around you, but you must blight

into

it

Live!"

Evil.

Can any thing be more horrible than this ? Once more, let us take it for granted that this deformed hunchback is a Madman. That it is only a fancy a mere dream of frenzy that he has lived for centuries, and is doomed to live until unborn ages are past. That it is only a vagary of his distorted reason, which induces him to believe that for him there is no God, no Christ, no Saint nor Angel. Can any thing in the Universe be more appalling than this?

—

—

To

both questions, your

first

answer, urged from your heart, by feeling

as natural as our love for a Mother,

is,

simply but earnestly

—

"

No

!"

Think again. Pause for a moment. What does the Creed of a Church, the dogma of a sect hold forth ? That the Almighty Father will inflict upon countless millions of his creatures, the* irrevocable Judgment of an Eternity of Existence, and an Eternity of Crime.

Which this

is

the

most

repulsive,

my

friend

?

The

tradition

crude history, or the Belief solemnly taught in the

Church? "Behold

—"

said-

embodied

dogma

a Reverend man, one Sabbath-day, as he surveyed

the thousand faces, mellowed

by

the mild

beams of an afternoon sun

" Behold the sands that stretch beside the waves of the Ocean.

number those sands the shore, and bears

the years

which

in

of a

?

Once every thousand years,

away

in

its

a

little

bird

beak a single grain of sand.

will be passed ere the bird has borne

away

Can you comes to Compute

the sands

on

THUj

shore— one grain

the

MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON.

in a

thousand years— and you will have some idea

woe which awaits somewhat fearful

of the duration of that Eternity of

This,

will be admitted, is a

it

kind of Religion.

fearful

157

While

the

the

Damned." a somewhat

figure

—

bird bears the sands from the

little

—

one grain, only one, in a thousand years— countless millions of God's creatures are growing older in deathless torture, older in infernal Can you imagine the depravity knowledge, in blasphemous Crime. of a Soul that has existed for only a thousand years in Misery and shore,

Crime

?

not too hastily deride this Legend of olden tradition, which

Then do

Man, created by the allwas condemned to live for ever on this earth to live at and, feeling all the least while Three Centuries went down to Night was impelled by an involunwhile the beauty of the Good and the Pure, asserts, that once, in the history of the world, a

paternal God,

;

;

tary Necessity to the Evil and Corrupt.

To

our Legend once more.

The

Invisible, kneeling

on the

wrecked mind, were raised

light of a

were clasped to

and

his pale hands,

Never

fro.

for

darkened by

floor, raised his forehead,

His eyes, dazzling

the livid cross, to the light.

dusky

to the

and a slight

at all times, as

with the

Over

his chest

ceiling.

locks gently

air tossed his flaky

an instant did he suffer the medal

to

escape from

his grasp.

He was lines, his

whose deformity was as marked with ineffaceable broad forehead, marked by

but a miserable wretch, with a body

grotesque as

it

was hideous, and yet

eyes shining with intense

his face,

light, his

the livid Cross, indicate an intellect of remarkable power.

Around him brooded the shadows and deep within the

hill-side

the silence of the cell, sunken

He was

of Wissahikon.

world, alone with the incredible reality of his " Could

I

but believe—" that voice, whose musical accents so singu-

form

larly contrasted with the hideousness of his in a

Father

tears

For when he

A

—" Could

I

but believe

!"

There were chaos.

shut out from the

fate.

upon

his cheeks.

tried to raise

his^houghts

leaden sky seemed

to

stretch

God,

to

all

was darkness and

hopeless wall between him

its

and the Great Father of mankind.

With

a curse, he started to his

feet,

and, wrapping the mantle

him, prepared to hasten from the place. " To-night has been to me by no means an idle minutes.

Much work

— much Evil

!

Had

bore this,— " the medal glittered before his all

would have been well.

A

I

but

flight

known

of hours and

that

eye— "This upon

quiet grave

—a

about

Madeline

her bosom,

pleasant repose

— peace,

peace, after the long night, the ceaseless storm of three centuries.

But

it

"

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

158

may

not be too late, even

Behme

cell of Isaac

—

now

—

first to

the farm-house, and then to the

The yearning desire that was written upon the face of the Deformed, no pencil nor pen can depict it was as though a preternatural Soul had suddenly filled his distorted frame, and lighted his eyes with the fire of

—

an immortal existence. "

The crime which

three centures has not effaced,

may

be blotted out,

before the rising of the sun !"

CHAPTER FIFTEENTH. THE COMING OF THE DELIVERER.

"He hour

will

The

come/" muttered

midnight

after

old

man

the Priest of

the Deliverer will

sat in the

oaken

Wissahikon— "At

the third

come /"

chair, his

hands laid on his knees, as he

swayed to and fro with a restless motion. It was in the circular chamber, panelled with oaken wainscot, and rendered almost cheerful by the wood-fire which blazed upon the hearth. In the centre stands the white altar, on which the candles are placed, their light, struggling through the gloom, shining upon the high forehead of the solitary watcher, as, with his hands laid on his knees, he sways slowly

to

and

fro, the silver

Thus, alone,

for

cross on his heart, glittering like a star.

hours he has watched, his eyes of an azure so deep

and serene, fixed upon the cross of Iron which the altar.

And

all

the while, as

the old

rises in the

man

gloom beyond

kept his watch, the

fire

crackled merrily upon the hearth, and the same light which revealed his pale enthusiastic face, also shone laurel, the Bible

upon

the flagon of silver, the wreath of

with antique clasps, resting between the candles, on the

f

surface of the altar.

The Block-house rises darkly amid moonbeam? shining over the frozen snow. Its gates are flung wide open the old man awaits his long-expected guest. " He will come ; at the third Jwur after midnight, the Deliverer will Without,

all

drear and cold.

is

the pines, with the

—

come /"

These words acquire a singular interest from the tone and look which accompany their utterance. Hark the door opens the young man with the bronzed face and deep

—

dark eyes appears

— —advances

to his father's side.

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON.

159

It is Paul, with the kiss of the Wizard's child yet warm upon his lip, her words of delirious passion yet echoing in his ears. Scarce an hour has passed since he left his Father's side— a momentous

hour

him— an

to

memories,

to the

hour that in future years shall come, clad

in impressive

Dreamer's soul.

As Paul beheld the pale face of his father, with the high forehead and dreamy eyes, all memory of the Wizard's daughter rushed suddenly from him. Shall that enticing

after

the

You can

see the old

by

grasps his son

the

man

Deliverer will

turn suddenly

my

I left

Seventeen years ago,

an outcast.

now darken

— " May

?

not be a vain fancy,

it

come

ere

the rising of

round— his eye

blazes as he

the wrist.

" Seventeen years ago,

even

young man the

that

this

all

ever return to him again

memory

—" whispers — Hope sun V

" Father

became an

father-land, and

forsook the towers of

I

over the bosom of the Rhine.

my

whose name was en-

I,

my

nobled by the ancestral glories of thirteen centuries, turned

once on pomp, power, In

my

castle,

native land, the broad

now own

—

all that

that,

—and

temple of the Wissahikon.

why

me dead

for

many

years

by the world's law, are yours,

we

here

Why

back

at

worshipped by the herd of mankind.

they have believed

domains

another's rule

answer me,

is

and

exile

race, that

this,

is

by

are, side

my

son

?

side, in

— the

my

this

son,

rude

— Speak, Paul,

do we dwell together, the father and his children,

and

in this

wild forest of a strange land ?"

The son

veiled his eyes with his clasped hands

father's look thrilled

"I of

will

my

tell

you why!

Seventeen years ago,. as

my

to

soul

— bade

me

there

bent over the body

I

castle,

resign

— bade me take my children, and go forth

"And

the emotion of his

:

to the soul.

dead wife, even in the death-vault of our

Voice of God spake toys

him

to a

all

on the Rhine, the the world and

its

strange land !"

await the Fulfilment of Prophecy!" whispered Paul,

raising his head from his clasped hands.

" For seventeen years

I

have buried

my

soul

in the pages

of that

book-" " I have shared your studies, father

vanity of worldly

life, I

have made

Together we have wept

!

Reared

my home

—prayed— watched

afar

from the

toil

and the

with you in this hermitage.

over the pages of Revela-

tion !"

"You

have become part of

my

soul," said the Priest of Wissahikon,

hand upon the white forehead you might have been noble in your native land yes, your sword might have carved for you a gory renown from the corses of dead men, butchered in battle or the triumphs of poetry and art might have

in a softened voice, as he laid his withered

of his son

:

"

;

:

— —

!

!

PAUL ARDENHEIM

160 clothed your

brow

with me, devoted

The dark eye

in laurel,

life

OR,

;

and yet you have chosen your

and soul

to the

lot

with

me

;

perusal of God's solemn book !"

of the son began to burn with the same wild light that

blazed over his father's face.

And our

"

which

Ante-Diluvian World even as the

to

knowledge of these

in a

manner

all

is

given

was

of crime, as

man

to

the

as a refuge,

his children.

altar of human freedom

has spoken, and

so

it is

left

on

the surface It is the

its soil.

— Amen

!"

old man's voice rung, in deep, solemn tones, through the lonely

The

God

voice of

dreams by night

who

Noah and

is the last

room, while his eye seemed "

sunk in

—the New World

God

hope of man.

The

is

Never shall the footsteps of Kings pollute

of the Globe. last

;

Ark was given

New World

" The

our view, has ended

The Old World

great truths

and painful search into the awful world,

studies, our long

the Bible opens to

the

burn as with the

Iicill send

to

me,

fire

my

in

a Deliverer to

my people from

shall save

them from

to

has spoken

of Prophecy.

thoughts by day, in

this

physical bondage, even as

bondage of spiritual death

my

land of the Nciv World,

my

Son saved

!

"And to-night he will come at the third hour after midnight, he will come through yonder door, and take upon himself his great Mission, to free the New World from the yoke of the Tyrant " Yes, my son, six months ago, on that calm summer evening, as, with ;

Catherine leaning on one arm, you on the other,

woods, that voice whispered a message "All

ready

is

I

strolled forth along the

my

soul

!

To-night the

!"

come

Deliverer will

to

foi his

coming!" exclaimed Paul, advancing

to the altar.

" Behold the Crown, the Flagon of Anointing Oil, the Bible, and the

Cross!"

The

old

man

arose, lifting his withered hands above his head, while

the light streamed over his silver hairs.

"

Even

as the Prophets of old anointed the

brows of men, chosen by

and — purified by the prayer, and self-denial of seventeen long years, — anoint the forehead of the

God

to

do great deeds

in

His name, so

will

I,

toil,

Deliverer

Hark!

As

the voice of the aged enthusiast, tremulous with emotion, the clock in the hall without, tolls the hour of One..

quivers on the

air,

An hour

New

of the

Only an hour

nity.

Year has been gathered

to

Block-House, like a voice from the other world

— the last minute As and

the great ocean of Eter

ago, as the tones of that bell rung through the lonely

—deep,

sad,

and echoing

of 1774 sank in the glass of Time, and 1775

was born.

the echo died away, they knelt silently beside the altar, the old

his son.

of Paul

opened

;

The white

their hands, clasped together, rested

at the

Book

of Revelations

upon

the

man

brown locks Bible, which was

hairs of the Priest mingled with the

"

THE MONK

OF.

THE WISSAHIKON.

Their separate prayers, breathing

went up

gled together, and

An hour

Hark

passed.

One

those sullen sounds,

hear the old clock again

—Two—swell through

they kneel together there

Still

—

min-

lip,

one.

in

Do you

!

low whispers from each

in

Heaven

to

1G1

How

?

the silent halls.

the voice of the prayer quivers

still

from each tongue. After a pause of silent prayer, the old

my

"Place your hand upon bings

Upon my brow

?

—ah

heart,

rises

son

and paces the

Can* you

!

burns like living

it

!

man

my

fire

— he comes Yes, my heart throbs, my brain firm — the Deliverer will come God

nigh

!

The hour draws

!

but

fires,

my

faith in

!"

is

Vain were the attempt Call

floor.

feel its throb-

him dreamer

that a great soul

—

call

to picture the silent

him

fanatic

agony of

—what you —

throbbed within his brain

will,

still

that old

man's face!

you must

admit

still

you must reverence

the

strong heart which beats within his shrunken chest.

must you remember that this old man was once a renowned lord all that the world holds dear, buried himself for seventeen

Still

that

;

he forsook

years in the wilds of this forest, his days and nights spent amid the dark

pages of the Revelations of Saint John.

Up

and down the oaken

now

over his brow,

nance were

lost in

with a wilder

—

the

was seen

floor,

now by

the altar, where the where the writhings of

the darkness,

man

shadows, the old his withered

light,

Meanwhile dimly

in

hurried along, his eye blazing

The

the son remained kneeling in prayer. a twilight gloom.

Still

lights

burned

the Iron Cross

broke through the darkness, with

altar still

shone

cheek with a warmer glow.

room was covered with

— the white

light

his counte-

its

silver

Flagon and Laurel Crown.

Hark

That sound

!

starts, quivers, listens

One

—

the clock

is

on the hour of three

!

The

old

man

!

rings through the desolate mansion.

!

"I hear no sound!" mutters passed on his

lips,

"He comes

when Two

not!" cries Paul, darting

They

with suspense.

But the words had not

the enthusiast.

— swells on

the air.

to his

feet, his

features quivering

clasp their hands together— they listen with fren-

zied intensity. "Still

Not a sound!" gasped Paul. come!" and the old man, sublime in

no footstep

"But he

will

!

cism, towered erect, one the

hand

to

his heart,

the energy of fanati-

while the other quivered in

air.

Three!

Trfe

away.

"He comes

last

of

the

It is

bell

swelled

— echoed— and

died

—"But yes! there not frozen snow Hark! Father, — do you hear on threshold now — advances

not!" gasped the son,

a footstep on the

footstep?

stroke

in

agony

Is

father!

?

the

it

11

that

"

PAUL ARDENHEIM;

162

"He

comes!" whispered

OR,

man, while the sweat stood out

the old

in

beads from his withered brow.

— "It advances, on the door — hah! come "At as

it

he

last

All

is

It is

—hark!

There

but a delusion

is

hand

a

—no!

He

is

is

come!" gasped the old man, and with one impulse they Hark! You hear the old door creak on its hinges,

their knees.

—a

swings slowly open

"Friends,

I

have

manly

in a calm,

The

silent again?

!"

at last

sank on

Yes, along the hall

father!

for the son,

he gazed

me

direct

to the right

way?" his lips.

As

his features

were

wonder trembled from

a cry of

in silence

the voice, speaking

in the forest," said

"Can you

tone.

man looked up;

old

strange voice breaks the silence.

my way

lost

on the Stranger, while

stamped with inexpressible surprise.

The

Stranger stood on the threshold, his face to the light, his form

thrown boldly forward, by the darkness

He of

at his back.

stood there, not as a Conqueror on the battle

many

field,

with the spoils

nations trampled under his feet.

Towering above

the stature of

common men,

his

form was clad

in the

dress of a plain gentleman of that time, fashioned of black velvet, with

on the bosom and around the

ruffles

wrist,

diamond buckles gleaming

from his shoes.

Broad

in the shoulders, beautiful in the

limb, he stood there, extending

sinewy proportions of each

hat in one hand, while the other

his

gathered his heavy cloak around the arm.

His white forehead overarched large eyes, which gleamed even through the darkness of the

room with

chin round and

;

tled

full

a calm, clear light

;

his lips

the general contour of his face

beauty of mature manhood, mingled with the

In one word, he was a

man whom you would

were firm

;

stamped with the

fire

his set-

of chivalry.

single out

among

a

crowd

of ten thousand, for his grandeur of bearing, his calm, collected dignity of expression and manner.

"Friends," he again began, as he started back, surprised of the kneeling enthusiasts, "I have lost

"Thou

my way —

at the

sight

hast not lost thy way," spoke the voice of the old man, as he

arose and confronted the stranger

;

" thou hast found thy

way

to useful-

ness and immortal renown!"

The

Stranger advanced a footstep, while a

commanding clear,

face.

Paul stood as

if

warm glow

overspread his

spell-bound by the calm gaze of his

deep eyes.

"Nay — do

not

start,

voice that speaks from to a great

Nearer

"This

nor gaze upon

my lips,

is

work; kneel before the to the altar is

but folly

drew

—you

me

in

such

wond*!

the voice of Revelation. altar

I tell

Thou

thee the

art called

and receive thy mission!"

the Stranger.

mean

to

mock me!" he began;

but the wild

.

"

""

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. man

gaze of the old

and stood

"Nay, doubt me

yonder

Habitation in

you

restlessness drove

"This

is

laid

with strange thoughts in regard

filled

down

yourself

But sleep

city.

paused,

.

To-night,

not!

He

fire.

1

your country's Future, you

to

with magnetic

thrilled his heart, as

and wondering

silent

163

sleep within your

to

from your eyes

fled

—

forth into the cold air of night

true J." muttered the Stranger in a

musing

— a feeling of

tone, while his face

expressed surprise.

"As you dashed your form

along,

mounted on

ranks of

in the

battle, the

which soon

the steed

will bear

cold air of night fanned your hot

brow, but could not drive from your soul the Thought of your Country!"

"How know old

you this?" and the Stranger

man suddenly by

Deeper and bolder

"The

rein

Still

your country.

— floating

Even

great hopes

battle

calm tones, the way through the

rose to your lips

"I confess

——

it!"

my

"Is

it

was

lips

"As

—

You

your soul was the

visions of ivhat

is to

come

— darted one by one over

the threshold of

yonder door, asking,

another and a deeper question

forest,

stood upon the threshold, the question that

I

lawful for a subject

"Man!

him wander, you

let

said the Stranger, his tone catching the deep emotion

of the old man's voice. rose to

— dim

and armed legions

you stood on

as

— you

the thought that oppressed

Still

panoramas of

your soul. in

thrilled the tones of the old Enthusiast.

loosely on your horse's neck

fell

.cared not whither! future of

started forward, grasping the

the wrist.

to

draw

King?"

sivord against his

read the heart!" and

this strange

form and thoughtful brow, gazed fixedly

in the

man, of commanding

eyes of the Enthusiast,

while his face expressed every conflicting emotion of doubt, suspicion, surprise,

and awe.

"Nay, do not gaze upon me

in

such wonder?

has been allotted unto thee, by the altar

— and

woods

Father

here, in the silence of night,

— will I

It

thee a great

1 tell

all

souls

!

work

Kneel by

anoint thee Deliverer of this great land, even as the

may have been

a

sudden impulse,

flashed over

the

this

amid the depths of these wild

of Judah, in the far-gone time, anointed the

the future

of

or,

men

brows of the chosen David!"

perchance,

Stranger's soul, but, as

some the

conviction of

gloom of

that

chamber gathered round him, as the voice of the old man thrilled in his ear, he felt those knees, which never yielded to man, sink .beneath him; he bowed before the

Book

altar, his

brow bared, and

his

hands laid upon the

of God.

The

light flashed

manhood

in its

over his bold features, glowing with the beauty of

prime, over his proud form, dilating with a feeling of in-

expressible agitation.

On

one side of the

altar

stood the old

man— the

Priest of the Wissa-

— PAUL ARDENHEIM

164

hikon

—

full

waving aside from

his silver hair

bronzed

his son,

!

OR,

;

brow

his flushed

in face, but thoughtful in

—on

the other,

steady gaze of his large

the

eyes.

Around

group

this strange

all

was gloom:

through the open door, but they heeded "

—

!

Thou

called

art

Soon thou people on

freedom

— soon

a

%

Champion and Deliverer

head of legions

wilt ride to battle at the to

the cold wintry air poured

not.

work of

the great

to

it

—soon thou

wilt lead a

thy sword will gleam like a meteor over the

ranks of war!"

As

the voice of the old

ing on his heart,

head, as

if in

thrills

man

in the

dark robe, with the silver cross

through the chamber

—

flash-

bows

as the Stranger

his

reverence, while the dark-browed son looks silently on

look yonder, in the dark shadows of the doorway

A young

form, with a dark mantle floating round her white robes, stands

As you

trembling there.

look, her blue eye dilates with fear, her hair

streams in a golden shower, is

pressed against her

lip

down

uncovered shoulders.

to the

Her

finger

she stands doubting, fearing, trembling on the

;

threshold.

Unseen by

all,

she fears that her father

What knows

Stranger.

may work harm

picture

which she beholds

lighted

by the white candles

— her

flushed forehead.

white

with

picture

The

?

— the altar rising in the gloom — the Iron

father,

The

kneeling

This small and gloomy chamber,

terrifies her.

confronting the kneeling man, like a thing of evil

and wondering

to the

she of his wild dreams of enthusiasm

hairs

omen

Cross

—her brother, mute

floating

aside

was singular and impressive

from his the winter

:

wind, moaning sullenly without, imparted a sad and organ-like music

to

the scene.

"Dost thou promise,

that

found ready, sword in hand, It

was

in tones

when

the appointed time arrives, thou wilt be

to fight for

thy country and thy

God ?"

broken by emotion, that the Stranger simply answered—

"I do!"

"Dost thou promise,

bow

before thee

— as in

in

the hour of thy glory

the fierce

moment

oehold thy soldiers starving for want of bread truth, written in these

words

1

1 am

— when a nation

shall

of adversity,— when thou shalt

— to

remember

but the Minister of

God

the great

in the great

"

work of a nation? s freedom V " Then, in His name, who gave

human

the

New World

to

the millions of the

race, as the last altar of their rights, I do consecrate

thee

its

Deliverer!"

With

the finger of his extended hand, touched with the anointing

oil,

he described the figure of a Cross on the white forehead of the Stranger,

who

—

raised his eyes, while his lips

murmured

as if in prayer.

Never was nobler King anointed beneath the shadow of Cathedral arch never did holier Priest administer the solemn vow A poor Cathedral, !

—

;

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. rude Block-house of the Wissahikon

this

kneeling Stranger

—

—

165

a plainly clad gentleman, this

man

a wild Enthusiast, the old

I

!

grant

in

reflected the con-

;

between the shrunken form of the

trast

the Anointed,

— both

with me, that

fess

Heaven, as that of

And

quivering with the

same

Consecration was

this 44

Priest," and the proud figure of agitation,

—you

Good King George." young man stood gazing on

warm glow

up the

lightens

would con-

as holy, in the sight of

full

the while that

all

awe, while a

silent

44

And

it all.

had you seen the Enthusiasm of the white-haired Minister, had you marked the Stranger's brow, and cheek, and eyes

yet,

the stranger in

face of the girl trembling

on the threshold, as she beholds the scene.

When

44

the time comes, go forth to victory

queror's blood-red wreath, but this

He

extends his hand, as

—

if to

crown of

On

!

He

!"

wreathe the Stranger's brow with the

crown yet look A young form steals up to crown from his hand, and, ere you can look again, it brow of the kneeling man. leafy

thy brow, no con-

fadeless laurel

!

looks up and beholds that young

girl,

his side, seizes the falls

upon

the bared

with the dark mantle gathered

over her white robes, stand blushing and trembling before the

though frightened 44

well !" said the aged man, regarding his daughter with a kindly

It is

smile.

From whom should

44

the Deliverer of a Nation receive his

of laurel, but from the hands of a stainless 44

altar, as

boldness of the deed.

at the

Rise

The Champion and Leader

!

woman

crown

!"

of a People !" spoke the deep

voice of the son, as he stood before the altar, surveying, with one glance,

and the bowed

the face of his father, the countenance of the blushing girl,

head of the Stranger.

44

Rise,

sir,

and take

this

hand, which was never

man! I know not thy name, yet, on this Book, I swear to be faithful to thee, even to the death !"

yet given to

The of his

Stranger rose

;

proudly he stood there, as with the consciousness

commanding look and form.

forehead

the cross,

;

formed by

Paul, the son, buckled a

hands as

if in

They

all

The

laurel-wreath encircled his white

the anointing oil, glistened in the light.

sword to his side the old man extended his young girl looked up silently into his face. ;

blessing, while the

beheld the form of this strange

won

while that face, whose calm beauty had in

every

From you, old man, From you, brave friend, all

And upon

sadly over

distinctly

now

emotion quivered

by

snow, yet these words, all

vow From you, fair girl, the sword On this Book I swear to be

I take the

the

frozen

the

by the stranger, were heard

44

unto

with

their hearts,

fibre.

The wind moaned uttered

man shake

!

!

laurel

!

faithful

!"

as the light flashed over his quivering features,

the

Book and kissed

the hilt of the sword.

he

laid his

hand

—

PAUL ARDENHEIM;

166

OR,

CHAPTER SIXTEENTH. THE OLD LONDON COFFEE HOUSE. "

Solemnly, gentlemen, and

truly, I must.

There's daybreak in the

chinks of the door, and you can hear the kuckerekoos I

over the town.

all

must indeed—"

The

man smoothed

little

narrow forehead, and arranged about his knees.

hands arranged

his white apron, with his big

much

his wig, which, sooth to say, inclined too

hose,

his

to

the left side

of his

which hung somewhat loosely

In one' hand he held a burnished candlestick, containing

the last remains of a flickering light, and as he spoke, in tones at once

bland and deprecating, he accompanied every other word with

a gro-

tesque genuflection, intended for a bow.

Around

the

table

which stood near the broad

fire-place

—a

circular

strewn with pewter mugs, long-necked bottles and broken pipes

table,

three persons

bloomed with

were

leadened with

rectly,

grasped a

seated

capacious

in

oaken

the freshness of Madeira, or, to

mug

chairs.

For every hand

stupor of malt and tobacco.

t$ie

Their faces

speak perchance more cor-

of shining pewter, and a pipe of plain clay was inserted in

every mouth.

was

It

some

a large room, with

white-washed walls and a neatly sanded

In one corner, certain vessels glittering on a range of shelves, gave

floor.

The

indications of the character of the place.

were carefully

closed, as

if to

of daybreak, and the remains of a glorious wood-fire

dered

among

smoked and smoul-

the ashes of the hearth.

In a word, this room, into which

was nothing

doors and windows

seclude the belated revellers from the light

we have

famed public

less than the

so unceremoniously entered,

hall or

bar-room of the " London

Coffee House," a quaint fabric, with deep gabled roof, which stood at the corner of Market and Front streets, to the great delight of the town-gossips

and coffee-drinkers of old Philadelphia.

Here

the

good people thronged

rum, discuss the

to sip

politics of the day,

their coffee, tipple their

Jamaica

and decide upon the merits of King

George, and the Continental Congress.

The persons who occupied

the

oak chairs

may

attract

our attention, as

appropriate types of certain classes of society in the year 1774.

One was

a burly fellow,

a lively image of the

full

whose round cheeks vividly brought to mind a Dutch clock, while his scarlet uni-

moon on

form might have scared whole legions of male turkeys, and frightened a herd of bulls into hysterics.

With one

leg

—encased

in a

huge boot of

—

—

—

"

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. black leather, Dplished to a charm

—

laid

Near him, with

a very long nose,

pings, gave evidence of

whose

pipe and draughts of beer.

of no character at all, was a by tobacco ashes and beer drip-

lips

attire, soiled

And

the night-long revel.

and

steel buttons

and

the table, this gentleman

upon

regaled himself with alternate whiffs of his

goodly citizen, whose dark

habits of a careful son of traffic,

beside the citizen,

spoke of the

economical

was a slender youth, dressed

daintily in a

knee-buckles

steel

167

wide-skirted coat of brownish velvet, with a buff waistcoat and

His

breeches.

large blue eyes lain pitcher

face, rather insipid

— looking

— were

in

character,

its

like the eyes of a

As he smoked away, sucking

altogether leaden.

and started

into caverns, fro in the

his leaden eyes

Must

you

The

"

— eh ?" said the

bowl of hot

I

at

must

Here Tadkins,

is

— indeed

to

I

must

— " What must

bed these three hours, and

two night-caps on

—

the imposing representative

his

—

in the

is

his

absence of the Land-

of the far-famed "

elaborated a strange performance in

head, stretching forth floor.

gone

the top of his speed, with

— of the dignity and beer

sanded

to

liquor.

scarlet gentleman, with a hiccup

you know,

landlord, as

away now

bald head, an'

lord

from their sockets, he swayed

Tadkins ?"

do,

sleepin'

at

his haggard cheeks

capacious arm-chair, with a motion that reminded you of

a crab-apple tossing about in a "

his

;

Chinese mandarin on a porce-

the stem of his pipe with an energy that hollowed

and

satin

was very pale

London Coffee House," gymnastics, by suddenly dropping his

arms, and

This, translated into

scraping his right foot over the English, was

intended

to

say, "I,

Christopher Tadkins, tapster of the Old London Coffee House, leave the of

drift

"

my

What

remarks

does he

his spacious

vow,

'fore

to

?" cried the gayly attired youth, from a corner of

mouth, very remote from the centre

— George "

his favorite

way

—" Speak man, and don't your wig " Yes — " remarked the elderly

fanity

!"

your good sense, gentlemen

mean

—" Tad,

of getting up a

it's

rather odd, I

little

genteel pro-

stand there bobbing your head until

out,

flies off

Translate yourself from

citizen

dumb motion

say so.

We're not severe

know The

"

enlighten us.

*t

Or,

into English.

to-night.

It's

New

if

Year's

lucid.

morning, you

elderly gentleman buried the tip of his nose in the recesses of his

pewter mug. "

Be

you're drunk,

Why,

gentlemen, you must see that's

its

—"

Tadkins

ax you

to reflec'

reether late

placed his right hand in the centre of his apron,

— "I

—you, Antony Hopkins, Marchant — " he bowed the elderly " You, Octavius Germin, Esquire — " the pale-faced bow to

a

to

citizen

youth

"an' you, Cap'in Grosby, of his Majesty's hundred and twelfth

ment—"

regi-

—

"

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

168

Poor Tadkins came

to a

sudden pause.

In the fervo^ of his speech,

commenced

he had suddenly lost the idea, on the strength of which he

profound appeal.

his

"

Well ?" grunted the

M There's no denyin'

bluff Captain it,

must g-wf" shrieked Tadkins

.

— —

"If

a latherin'

I let

—

as

Again Tadkins came "

you you stay any to-morrow that is, to-

as late as daybreak, and

it's

in utter despair.

me such

longer, the Landlord will give

day

Grosby— " Well ?"

gentlemen,

Germin

—"

to a

sudden

halt.

Captain waved

the

toward the pale-faced youth

ruffles,

poker, and while

There was

doing, hand

it is

me

hand, encircled by white

red

his

—" Just

me by

oblige

heating that

an empty mug."

Tadkins

a vast deal of significance in his bland whisper.

Germin handed

retreated a step in evident alarm, while

the pewter

mug,

with the remark

" That's easier to manage than a hot poker.

Shy

it

at his wig, but

don't hurt his head."

Tadkins retreated another step " in

Now,

your

you see me

Sirrah, do

face,

— " Gentle-men !" ?

If

and stop off your jabber,

rlesh off the right corner of

he gasped.

you don't put a cork

your cocoanut,

into that hole

just take the nicest piece of

I'll

that ever

you did

see.

I will,

!"

by

We

cannot decipher the oath, from the

threat, but tierce,

MSS. which

relates this striking

have no hesitation in giving the assurance, that said oath was

bloody, royal

— altogether worthy of

a sense of his dignity,

a British Captain, inspired

by

and a dozen mugs of beer.

Tadkins, without a word, retreated toward the shelves, where his candle

shone over the array of burnished pewter.

along, he muttered an inaudible rejoinder,

corpulent Briton, wishing to his face,

From

bitter

on the

other things that his nose would set

and straightway reduce him

ages.

future

among

Yet, even as he shambled

and grew very

the secure retreat

to

fire

a cinder, as a warning to all

near the

shelves, he

furnished

watched the drinking-party, with an earnestness that lasted only for an

No

instant.

sooner had Tadkins

straightened his wig

hered

to his fingers,

— blacking then he

placed the

candle

on

a, shelf,

and

one eye with the candle-snuff, which ad-

fell fast

asleep, and snored like a north-wind

whistling through a key-hole.

"To

resume

— where

did

I

stare into the faces of his

"At

we're from — " Now Grosby looked with a sleepy

leave off?

impertinent interruptions of this fellow

that

the

free

companions.

the stake in the middle of a dark

woods with

and a troop of Indian devils dancing round you

fire

at

— " suggested

your the

feet

young

gentleman, speaking the sentence in one short breath.

"One

in particular

was touchin' you up with a pine torch under your

—

"

—

"

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON.

—" nose

remarked the plain

secluding

again

citizen,

169

nose from

his

the light.

The obese Captain panted

" Yes, sirs !"

smoke

of his pipe through his large nostrils Injins

stake.

all

Tomahawks

around.

for breath, as

— " There

he forced the

Tied

was.

I

—pine torches—ugly

old

to the

women,

many walking Bedlams. I teas there, sirs. A tomahawk was brandished over my head, but 1 looked the red scoundrel in the screaming like so eye

— in

the eye, sirs

The Captain

— in the his

lifted

eye

mug

clinging to his large lips, quietly

"

I

why

wonder

mouth, and, with the beer froth

to his

remarked

he does stay ?"

does not appear that

It

—

this

abrupt remark was connected, in the most

remote degree, with the narrative which the worthy Captain had been so

His companions were too

impressively telling.

far

gone

in the abstruse

meditations engendered by the beer mug, to notice this sudden diversion

Indeed, Octavius was engaged in the

of the Captain's train of thought.

hopeless attempt to entrap an imaginary black beetle, which

tween

his eyes

himself the mysterious words

to

He

love

—not

so

does he stay?" repeated the Captain.

"Eh? ;

my

o'clock,

know—"

evidently imagined himself in the presence of his indignant spouse.

"Why 'up

— " Only ten

you think— New Year's Eve, you

late as

be-

flitted

and the unsnufTed candle, while friend Anthony muttered

I

vow

— " He said Were

break.

I

don't

know — "

cried Octavius, suddenly brightening

he would join us

that

and

at three o'clock,

now

day-

it's

there ever such lively roosters in your part of the world ?"

he added, as the trumpet peal of an early chicken-cock echoed through the silence of the town.

"

A

—

lord

a lord

—" muttered Anthony, with

an absent eye, and finger

mug

slowly undulating between his nose and his pewter in Philadelphia,

consigned by his father to

Nobody — except you

— —

—

my

—" A

live

Lord

and nobody knows

care,

—

and you and he, he and me." was no doubt an excellent joke, for friend Anthony chuckled over it, until his nose resembled a premium pear, at some horticultural exhibition.

it.

It

"What are you doing?" cried the Captain, with his sleepy eyes fixed upon the pale youth "In the name of his Blessed Majesty Octavius,

—

my "

— dear

Eight— nine

coin,

!

— — " muttered Octavius, surveying ten

which he had placed upon the

he don't,

The

I

win.

How

table.

do you think

individual addressed

seemed

will turn out,

it

to

a

little

" If he succeeds,

pile of gold I

lose.

If

Captain ?"

be wrapt in deep cogitations for a

moment, and then answered gravely " If she was a lady of quality, case you would lose.

I

could

Distinct-l-y, sir

!

tell

you

in

But, as she

a minute. is

In that

a peasant

girl, I

"

—— —

—

"

:

"

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

170

am

induced

to think that

our friend

— that

joke, to call himself John, plain John,

Reg"

" R-e-g, his

finger,

n-a-l-d,

John

is,

—eh

—eh?

John!

Capital

?"

muttered the decorous citizen, writing with the end of

moistened with beer, upon the white

table,

— nald,— Reginald /"

As though he had accomplished some problem of

—"

Regi,

i,

—

incalculable intricacy,

the good citizen looked around with a glance of triumph, and pointed to the name, inscribed

upon

smooth board

the

in characters

—not of

light

but of beer. "

When

1

you get a

did

letter

from the old boy?"

Grosby.

"Yesterday.

Mysterious

bered by a large an under-tone

'

—"

—

and holding

seal, 4

1

it

near the

light,

responded An-

charge you, have a care over

read from

my —my

spared to further the great object of his journey

effort be

—

very mysterious

Diving his hand into a side-pocket, he drew forth a

thony.

del

—ugh!

observed Captain

son to

cum-

letter

pages in

its

— and no — Philalet

Phil

very mysterious!"

"And

if

he succeeds,

earnest effort to

he stay?

draw

—

Ha. ha

it

I

win the guineas," said Mr. Octavius, making an

a cloud of

must be

listens to the insinuating stranger,

me

" Speakin' o' girls reminds

smoke from

a cold pipe.

and

—

The

a delicious interview.

—

"

Why

dear

does

little girl

of politics," remarked the Merchant,

commanding

arranging himself in a position of

gravity, with one limb

crossed over the other, and his chin very near his knee, while his thumbs

and the ends of

"Do you much?

his fingers

were placed

together, with due solemnity

think, Captain, that this Continental

Congress will ever come

of the Colonies, and

snuff the candle,

ministerial oppression.

Many

if I

words, a great

may trouble you, Octavius many words; and, if I may

— of— small-talk."

use so bold a phrase, an unlimited Ocean of "Sir.

The name

Si-r-r!

The Captain

inhaled an

tions to the beer

to

in the State-house yard, in these days, about the rights

Great talk

mug.

It

of his blessed Majesty

King George

is

—

immense volume of smoke, and paid his devowas quite a pleasure to hear him conclude his

remarkable sentiment " That

is

" Exactly

my opinion, Sir. my own way of

It is."

thinking," said Anthony.

" I have always

held those opinions."

Octavius said nothing, but continued to count his guineas. "

Eh

—bye

the bye,

when do you expect John

Captain turned his leaden eyes toward the

"Some months

will

elapse

—"

began

to leave the

city?"

—the

citizen.

the

Merchant, performing a

solemn pantomime with his thumb and fingers, when his words were suddenly interrupted by an alarming clamor at the tavern door. "Do you hear, Tadkins? Hello the fellow's asleep— suppose

—

—

—

:

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. you

him

let

in,

my

Octavy,

171

dear," said the Captain, in a mild, loving

way.

him

"It's very easy to say, Let

two or three

bottles of

of beer and tobacco smoke,

it

when

in; but

wine within

a

man

has deposited

some

his waistcoat, with a superstructure

becomes

how

question

a

—

a

man

— can

walk-" Octavius rose to his

movements to wooden bar, than the erratic

feet,

however, and reached the door,

the right and

was

latch

No

left.

lifted,

and a

figure

and moved with hasty strides toward the

old

"Hello!

Why,

You

"

rushed over the thresh-

table.

Rather an unpleasant object!"

you're white as a sheet!

cried the Captain, starting in his chair.

after several

sooner had he removed the

don't call

it

a decent thing,

plunge in upon us, looking like a corpse, do you?"

to

"What's

the matter?" drawled Anthony, gazing vacantly into the face

of the intruder.

was Jacopo, no longer red and blooming

It

dead man.

paunch, as he stood by the

small black eyes peering steadily

table, his

Even

into the lean visage of the merchant.

seen blooming and blushing like a

was

in the cheeks, but pale as a

His slender limbs trembled under the weight of his rotund

colorless

"Jacopo!

his nose,

which we have

coal about to kindle into a blaze,

fire

now.

How

goes

man?" —

it,

—

Octavius staggered to

his

side

"Where's John? I'm ready " he leaned for support upon the table, while his face was invested with the apathy of the last degree of drunkenness "How's your health, my boy ? Favor this company with a song." And then the bewildered Octavius favored the company with a touching

—

couplet from a pathetic ballad of the olden time "

My name And

K

As " Octavy,

my

is

Robert Kidd,

so wickedly I sail-e-d,

I

did

as I sa-i-l-ed."

love," politely interfered Captain

Grosby

— " Hold

your

jaw." Jacopo did not speak a word in answer. silently into the faces of the pallid

with a blank

Panting for breath, he looked

boon companions, while

were

his features

terror.

Anthony dashed his mug upon the table, and staggered to his "Where's your master?" he cried, as he beheld the terror-stricken of Jacopo. "

The

fact is,

my

friends,

I'm a

little

out

o'

breath

— " Jacopo

feet.

face

spoke

very slowly, looking over his shoulder toward the door, with the glance of a nervous man, who fancies that he is pursued by an Apparition. " But

you surely are jesting John) is not here?"

—

—you do

not

mean

to

say that

my

Lor

—

(that is,

—

"

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

172

A

The

dead silence ensued.

on the face of Jacopo

terror imprinted

The Captain

impressed the boon companions with an involuntary awe. rose,

and

the

three

around

gathered

the

companion of

Reginald

Lyndulfe. M What's this

Where

!

Out with

self.

at

it

is

once

he

YQur

?

face

— " and the burly

would

frighten the devil

officer

him-

shook Jacopo roughly

by the shoulder. " Out with

it,

!"

or I won't answer for your health, by

"

Has he come yet?" faltered Jacopo, sinking into a chair with a gro" Corpi di bacco ! This is very tesque sigh, which resembled a snore. singular

— " he

grasped a wine-bottle, and inserted the neck in his capa-

cious mouth.

"A-a-h!

weather in

new country

this

I

am —

They produce such

very chilly.

cold

—

" Would you be so good as to speak ?" thundered the Captain, when suddenly a footstep was heard, and a form, crossing the threshold, came rapidly through the shadows toward the table.

Every eye was turned with the same movement toward the face of the Not a word was spoken, and the breathless silence deepened the feeling of terror which had been communicated to the revellers by the

new-comer.

broken words of Jacopo, Reginald Lyndulfe stood disclosed color banished from his face

all

—

shoulders, with the gay apparel which

and torn

in

many

places.

in the light

—

silent

it

had concealed, covered with mud,

His entire appearance was wild and haggard.

silence he surveyed every visage, his blue eye discolored

while his hair hung in pressed

lips,

—motionless

gray surtout thrown back on his

his

damp

flakes

by

In

injected blood,

about his forehead, and his com-

no longer red with youth and passion, wore the color of

bluish clay. After this silent gaze, he flung himself into a seat, or rather sank into the chair, with the fatigue

manner of one who has been exhausted by hours of Still, no one broke the silence; the boon compa-

and suffering.

nions cast stealthy glances into each other's faces, and then as stealthily

surveyed the faces of Jacopo and his master. Reginald dashed his cap upon the

table,

wiped the moisture from his forehead. "Jacopo " he said, in a hoarse voice, "Have you any brandy?"

—

These words may provoke

that

a smile, but there

santry upon the countenance of those the

and with his colorless hand

was scarcely audible was nothing

who surveyed

like plea-

the haggard face of

young man. With a hand that trembled visibly, Jacopo reached the which was labelled "Brandy," and placed a capacious glass goblet

bottle

before his master.

Reginald's hand also trembled as he grasped the bottle, and held the goblet until

it

contained

at least

one half a pint of

it

over

that inspiring poison,

— THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. which cankers the blood with

demon.

into a

He

raised the goblet, and did not set

burning liquid had passed his

The

An

down

it

company now manifested

old trooper like

me

your abstinence.

for

or quarter-drunk, in

all

I

You,

known you.

the devil!"

"A

half a pint!"

ejaculated

Anthony

it if you were to cut me up somewhat mysterious remark of Octavius.

Jacopo gazed still

Zounds

boy, you are as half-drunk !

Enough

to

— "and without water!"

"I couldn't drink the

my

much

never saw you so

the time I've

words.

itself in

couldn't stand such a dose as that,

and I've swallowed the stuff these twenty years. remarkable

every drop of the

until

lips.

surprise, the terror of the

"Zounds!

kill

173

man

peculiar leprosy, and degrades the

its

coach-whips!" was

into

The eyes were The brandy did

in silence into the face of his Master.

blood-shotten, the lips livid, the cheek colorless.

not seem to have the least effect upon him; at

all

events

its effects

were

not in the most remote degree perceptible.

A

painful silence ensued.

Reginald held forth the goblet once more, with an emphatic gesture "

More brandy Jacopo

!"

he whispered.

lifted the bottle,

and paused when the goblet was

half-filled, the

bright red liquid shining through the clear glass.

"

Go on—"

said his master, in that almost inaudible tone.

Again he raised the glass, and drained

The surprise and man sank back in every

anxiety of the his

seat, 'and

Yet

Reginald sat before them, his cadaverous face, lighted by the

still

knees, trembled as

compressed

lips,

and

the spectators.

"It

is

very strange

His hands, which were

with an ague-chill

pallid cheeks, he

—"

he

;

upon

laid

Avith blood-shot eyes,

and

gazed vacantly into the faces of

said, in that

has not the least effect upon me. ill

to the last drop.

lip.

candle, as pale and ghastly as ever. his

it

company may be imagined. Every the same ejaculation quivered from

hoarse whisper

I believe that I

am

—"The

about

to

brandy

be taken

with some mortal disease."

At once the tongues of the spectators were unloosed. "

What

is the

matter?" cried Anthony.

"There's something dreadful happened "

to

you

—"

said the Captain.

The girl—"

At that word, uttered by the slender Octavius, his guineas, a

"Pshaw — I had night jilted

— she me."

who

laid his

hand upon

shudder agitated the face of the young man. quite forgotten our wager.

did not keep her appointment.

Have not seen her

— she — she — ha,

ha

to-

— has

""

""

"

"

PAUL ARDENHEIM

174

With

;

OR,

eye fixed sternly upon the astonished face of Jacopo, he

his

slowly uttered these words, with a miserable attempt "

The

wish

I

say a word

to

way toward

the door,

Go

once

at

— and saddle

light of the

Mr. Hopkins's house,

to

two of the best horses

the river, and wait for

you

you," whispered Reginald, and he

to

where the

breaking day

fell

upon

on

my

desk

haggard faces.

their

"

to force a smile.

guineas are yours!"

"Jacopo, led the

—"

"

me

in the

— secure

the package

Then you

in his stables.

woods

at

Cooper's Point.

will cross will join

I

there, within a half-hour."

—

"Two

of the best horses how shall I get them over the river?" was a ludicrous astonishment in Jacopo's face. *« There is a ferry from the foot of High street, or you can get the old Fisherman at Mulberry street wharf to take them over in his flat-boat. But they must be over the river in a half an hour, or His face became suddenly agitated. "Jacopo " he continued, abruptly changing the subject "You left the farm-house after I did. Was there any thing like surprise at my sudthere

—

—

—

den departure ?"

Jacopo answered aroused from

my

in a whisper, hoarse

and thick with emotion

sleep by a loud outcry.

I

hurried from

found that the noise proceeded from her chamber " Madeline — "

—

my

I

I

saw old Peter standing

"

Go I

I

was

crossed the

in their midst, pointing to

pressed through the crowd, looking for you, and "

I

Reginald shuddered, as he whispered the name.

" There was a throng of neighbors gathered there, and as threshold,

—"

room, and

the floor.

—

—go on —

on

did not see your face, but your

the crowd.

And —

name was spoken every moment, by

" Madeline ?" gasped Reginald, grasping his servant by the wrists.

"She was

not there

—

Reginald tottered backward, and would have fallen, had not the arm of

Jacopo held him firmly against the posts of the door. "

Go on

Madeline

She had

left the

stain of blood,

farm-house, but Old Peter,

which was

light disclosed not

"A

in the face of

—"speak

features-

it

Jacopo,

at

once.

— was not— there—

tated, pointed to the floor,

tures

own

reflected the ghastliness of his

which "

— " and Reginald cast a beseeching glance

only a

who was wonderfully

and called the attention of the neighbors visible at his feet.

Nay,

pool of blood

stain, but a

my

—"

agi-

to the

Lord, the torchReginald's fea-

became blank with vague horror. pool of blood * * * and Madeline gone

* * * *

but go at

" But,

my

once, Jacopo, and obey

Lord, you are not well

—

"

— There has been foul play

my commands. Not

a

word

—

—

"

"

"

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. "Fool! Do you hesitate? Let and

—"

175

will not suspect

and do not

— a vessel

New York

from

sails

more than

for there is

fail,

woods,

the horses be ready in Cooper's

he glanced over Jacopo's shoulder, towards the table

stake

life at

— " Hopkins

to-morrow

—

—

go,

I

say,

He pushed Jacopo faces of the into a seat. for

through the door, and hurried toward the table. The boon companions were turned toward his visage, as he sank Not a word was spoken, but it was evident that they waited

an explanation of

"Hopkins, chair

— " that

all this

was about

I

mystery, from the

head from his hands

— "in

Turning from one

to

—"

remark

say, Octavius

to

is

to

fact,

—"

lips of Reginald.

Merchant

the

up

started

in his

the leaden-eyed reveller raised his

Captain—" boon companions, and exciting

the other of the

the earnest attention of every one

by

his address,

Reginald slowly con-

tinued "

Have you such

a thing as a well-flavored

Havanna

He

cigar ?"

accom-

panied these remarkable words with a hearty burst of laughter.

There could not have been a more ludicrous surprise, had he asked the gallant Captain to pull a

Merchant

church steeple from

his

pocket, or desired the

merchant vessel of three hundred tons from the crown

to take a

of his cocked hat.

"He

is

drunk," was the muttered ejaculation of the young gentleman.

" Crazy !" thought Mr. Hopkins.

Had some tain, who was "

love-scene with the girl

man

a

—"

of the world, and

was the reflection of the Capsomewhat dangerous to the sex,

withal.

However, the Merchant drew from wrapped in yellow tea-paper. "

A

sample of the best Havanna

his pocket a small parcel, carefully

— received 'em yesterday from Cuba—

and he handed Reginald a*cigar, observing tone

—"White

as a sheet,

by George

at

the

same

time, in an under-

!"

Reginald lighted the cigar, and placing his feet upon the

table,

soon en-

circled his face with a fragrant cloud.

"

The

fact

gentlemen," he exclaimed,

is,

some previous

silently elaborating

do

will not dare to

And

in a

it.

moment

the

They

as

though

subject of discussion

—

he "

will talk, but they dare not act

company were involved

in the

had been

The Colonies

—

mazes of a

politi-

which, as the hour was daybreak, and three of their num-

cal discussion,

ber stupid with the bottle and pipe, and the fourth not far from crazy,

was, in every point of view, a remarkable event. " tea,

They may but

when

was decided

"The thing

is

dress themselves as Injins, and attack whole cargoes ol

it

comes

to

musket and bayonet

in his opinions.

fact is,

There was

— B-a-h — " !

the Captain

a profundity in his " B-a-h !"

gentlemen, to look at the subject philosophically, every

degenerated in this country.

Instead of a

Church Establishment,

—

"

PAUL ARDENHEIM

176

;

OR,

they have conventicles of drab-coated Quakers.

— and

The

general degeneracy, gentlemen, does not end here.

extends from the political roast beef

"

Brag

is

a

good

It

—

of their big talks, at Carpenter's Hall, in September

said the acute

last," 4

some

mob

The

the alimentary and convivial world.

to

tough, and the brandy worse than medicine

is

attended

I

Instead of a King, a

and Christianity, they have a Continental

in place of law, order

Congress.

;

dog,'

—" There

were some

fiery speeches, but

forth, as the

proverb has

it."

Hopkins and so

—

"The idea that any man would be so ridiculous as to " the young man possibly may have meant to advance some profound truth, or elabosome new theory

rate

in

political

philosophy, but he

concluded with

breaking his pipe, and calling on the Captain for a song.

While the discussion continued, Reginald smoked

in silence,

which was

only broken by an occasional word, evidently uttered with the intention of prolonging the pallor of his face

;

cigar,

no doubt whatever,

is

mild and peaceful in

gloom which clouded

dispel the sullen

" There

There was no change

argument.

even the

that

the proceedings of the Continental

exclaim, with

Captain,

The

my

an

the

King

is

Hopkins surveyed

informed of

fully

Congress," gravely exclaimed the the

all

indignation

facts

connected with

it

this

Zounds

truly royal

pipe has gone out, and I've no paper to light

sedate

unnatural

his features.

when

Merchant, " and put in possession of matter, he will

in the

its effects, failed to

again

!

!"

his pipe with an expression of indescri-

bable despair, as he placed these mysterious words in the mouth of his

dread Majesty, King George. I must confess that your figure is by no means lucid," the Captain remarked, with a profundity altogether significant of beer and tobacco " What in the d 1 has King George and the Continental Congress to

"

do with a pipe ?" "

Bah

!

Captain, this pipe, at which

I

for the last minute, is cold as an icicle.

you— it's

about

have been puffing hopelessly

Have you an

old newspaper

so unpleasant to light one's pipe at a reeking tallow-

candle—" " Not an old newspaper, but a new one. I received it from a friend toJust tear a strip off the border day, who came over by the last ship. It must last me for the next three months." don't spoil the reading.

The Captain

flung the paper on the table, and

great care, to peel a narrow strip from " British

What

Gazette

is this ?

*

and Chronicle.

its '

Hopkins began, with meanwhile Novem-b-er eleventh Hello border, muttering

—

—

!

Last dying speech and confession of Greeley, the notori"

ous Pirate hung on Tyburn,

The Merchant dropped

—

'

his pipe,

and with his eye rivetted by the dingy

type of the London paper, perused the paragraph which arrested his attention,

with undisguised, but by no means sober interest.

His

lips

moved

"

"

"

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. unceasingly in

a

grimace, and

ridiculous

his

177

grew

eyes

idiotic,

in

a

fixed stare.

" What's the matter ?" cried the Captain, taking his huge boot from the table,

and bending forward with sudden attention

Majesty taken cold, or

is

— the — Church

—

"

Has

his blessed

—

threatened with an attack of

the redoubtable Captain hesitated for a word, but quietly added, after a

moment

—

" epilepsy ?"

"Just read

me

Court news, will you ?" suggested Octavius.

a bit of fresh

Hopkins, however, did not answer, but, growing suddenly pale, continued absorbed in the perusal of the paper. " Reginald, will

you have the kindness

to read that ?"

placed upon the particular paragraph, he handed the

With

his finger

paper across the

him

table.

The young man, absorbed

at first,

but the Merchant, starting up from his seat, held the paper before

seem

in a revery, aid not

to

hear

his face.

"

Read

father's

that, if

is

it

agitation of

the date of the paper

to

eyes over

its

the attention of the

"

It

your

young man, whose-

columns, examined the date, surveyed the advertisements

nouncements of the "

as

Gazette and

Seizing the paper, he cast his

and the intelligence from court, the debates

here

1

you."

Hopkins excited

were Clouded by apathetic gloom.

features

same

the

is

had not seen the

that he

plain

when he wrote

Chronicle'

The

you please

but

letter,

in

Parliament and the an-

theatre.

does not interest me," he said, with a vague stare

—

That paragraph,"

cried

Hopkins

—"

I see

nothing

bending

in his shrillest tone, while,

over the table, his long nose almost touched the face of Reginald.

The young man beheld whose

face betrayed

paragraph designated

the

by

the Merchant,

such singular emotion.

In silence he read, while the boon companions anxiously

sudden changes of his handsome countenance.

was

appalling.

crushed

it

He

marked the

agitation of Reginald

surveyed the paper with the glare of a madman, and scattered it in fragments on the table.

in his hands,

—

"Look ye " he gasped, " You will find the

shoulder

The

—

as he placed his

hand on the Merchant's

object of your search in the valley of the

—

—

Her name is Madeline she dwells in As though maddened by some memory of this eventful night, he turned hastily away the half-finished sentence on his lips and fled with unsteady steps from the room. As he reached the threshold, the light of the Wissahikon.

—

rising lids

sun streamed over

his

haggard face, and disclosed his eyes, the

inflamed and the balls discolored by injected blood.

"I must away," he and

—

its

said in a

low

voice, as his back

occupants, his face to the rising sun

Cooper's woods, and a ship

sails

from 12

— " The

was

to

the

horses wait for

New York to-morrow—"

room

me

at

—

"

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

178

He

name pronounced by

crossed the threshold, and heard his

more hollow and

dawn, he beheld a

fresh winter tions of

despair-stricken than his face

By

own.

a voice

the light of the

on which were stamped the

indica-

an ineffaceable despair.

You here come you ?" **

— " he

cried,

and staggered backward

And a voice, faint and whispering, From Wissahikon !"

gave answer

While these scenes occurred

the

in affright.-—"

Whence

"

at

Old London Coffee House,

in

Philadelphia, events as strange and varied in their interest took place in the glen of Wissahikon, seven miles away.

Let us retrace our steps.

CHAPTER SEVENTEENTH.

" Paul, the Stranger wrote his I

name upon

have enclosed and sealed within

this

a piece of

have not looked upon that name, nor must you know action arrives.

There

it

may pass many battles

will be a battle

—

—

I

until the time for

cannot be long ere blood must be shed.

It

few months will elapse, or another year will flow.

parchment, which

paper, in the form of a letter.

Perhaps, a

before the

— armies

first

will be

blood

swept

away this new land grow rich in graves. But when the time arrives, you will break the seal of this letter, read the name of the Deliverer, and obey the words which you will find written beneath that name. Promise, my son, solemnly promise, that you will not break the seal, until a year has gone

The

—

light

minent veins

which the old man held

—

cast

its

— marked

by

pro-

rays along the gloom of the corridor, which

tra-

hand

in his thin

versed the Block-house or Monastery from east to west.

was fice

the ;

narrow

staircase leading into the

at the other the door,

the old clock,

whose monotonous

the stillness.

On

lower

floor of the

They

upper rooms or

opening upon the gate. ticking

the door stood

distinctly

either side appeared the doors of the

through

rooms on the

mansion.

stood before a door of dark walnut,

by spider-webs.

cells of the edi-

Near

was heard

At one end

It

had not been opened

for

whose panels were obscured

many

years.

— THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON.

Ii9

Paul surveyed the high forehead and clear blue eyes of his Father, with a glance which mingled reverence with something of awe. k

'

promise, Father," he said

I

—

" Until a year has passed,

I

will not

break the seal."

Come

11

robe, and inserted

chamber, and

this

The

man had

hither, Paul :" the old

folds of his

in the

it

listen while I

taken a rusted key from the

lock of the walnut door

" Enter

candle which the Father carried in an iron candlestick, revealed a

small apartment, square in form, and without kind.

—

speak."

was panelled with dark walnut.

It

windows or

furniture of

any

In the centre of the iloor arose

an altar or table covered with black cloth, moth-eaten and obscured by

was

spider-webs, and on this altar an urn of white alabaster

With

beheld the gloomy features of this coffin-like chamber.

was

face

visible.

a sensation of involuntary fear, Paul crossed the threshold,

and

His father's pale

by an emotion, which resembled the rapture or madness

agitated

His eyes shone with deeper light; a joy that

of an inspire^ Prophet.

might well have been called holy, radiated over his high narrow forehead

and trembled on " Paul

Kneel,

—

his lips.

you behold

my

sealed packet.

this

I

place

son. beside the altar, and promise that

within the urn.

it

you

will not

break the

seal until a year has passed."

At his father's

feet the

young man

knelt, while his

bronzed

by dark eves, and shadowed by masses of rich brown contrasted with old

"

pale face,

the

hair,

face, lighted

was strongly

blue eyes, and snow-white locks of the

man. promise, Father

I

The

!"

'

moment upon the urn, which stood out dark background, led the way from the chamber. He

Father, after gazing for a

vividly from the

locked the door, and again addressed his son

"Kneel once more.

Take

this

key, and swear that you will not un-

lock the door of this room, until a year has passed." " the

swear, Father !" said Paul, as he knelt in the dust of the corridor,

I

light

rusted

"

warmly over

shining

his

thoughtful face.

He

clutched

the

key with an involuntary earnestness.

Come

hither,

Paul ;" and the old

They

man

led his son for a

few paces

whose cobweb hung panels a cross was rudely traced. At the sight of that door, all that was calm or rapturous passed from the old man's face, and his down-drawn brow and tightened lips indicated emotions of a far difalong the corridor.

stood before a door of black walnut, on

ferent nature.

" Father,

you

are not well

— the night

air chills

you

—"

said Paul, with

evident anxiety.

The sical

old man's thin lips moved, but

power

to

it

frame an audible sound.

seemed

as if

he had not the phy-

—

"

"

PAUL ARDEjS HEIM

160

—

"

"

OR,

1

;

Paul gazed' upon his father with speechless anxiety and wonder. me see your hand, my son

—

" Let

Paul extended his hand "

a fair hand,

It is

—

yet—" The Father dropped spent

far

— and

moment,

In a

much

with so

it is

—

and delicate as a woman's hand

— and

hand with a shudder.

the

" Father, you are cold is

as white

let

me

you

assist

very cold in

to

this corridor

the peculiar emotion

your chamber

—

— the night

which stamped the old man's

He was calm

of horror and fear, passed away.

again

face his

;

blue eyes shining with steady light, while his long white hair trembled

gently aside from his colorless forehead.

"Kneel once more Paul knelt

The

old

—

at his father's feet.

man

extended his thin white hand, and placed

upon the brown locks of

gers

attired

in

robes

his

of dark velvet,

slender

iis

somewhat faded and worn firm, manly bosom of

on the

;

shrunken chest of the old man, and the shone a

fin-

Both father and son were

son.

his

son,

silver Cross.

Around them was

the

silence

of night, only broken

echoes of the winter wind. " Repeat after me, my son, a solemn

vow

by

knew

not

why,

at the

distant

—

Paul clasped his hands upon his breast, and cast his eyes trembling, he

the

to

the floor,

touch of his father's hand, at the sound

of his voice.

And

then, in accents bold

from the

lips of his

Father

"i, Paul, devoted to

and deep, he repeated the words which came

:

God from my

birth,

do vow by his holy name,

door of this scaled chamber, before which " whose surface bears the sign of the cross, until

never

to enter the

The

old

man

I

kneel,

and

paused, and veiled his eyes, while Paul looked up in

wonder.

He

awaited the conclusion of the oath, but his Father did not utter the

closing words, until a pause of

some moments.

— " repeated Paul, looking earnestly " Until my father dead— " said the old man,

" Until

into his father's face.

his voice tremulou;.

is

his

and

eyes shaded by his hand.

Paul hesitated for a moment, and then, his eyes swimming in moisture, slowly repeated the words "

And

if

you

fail

—

" Until

in this, Paul, the

and blight you into a hopeless grave

For

the first time in his

life,

my

father

is

dead."

Curse of God

will

descend upon you,

!"

Paul beheld an expression of fierceness

anger— rest upon the face of his " Dost thou hear,

my

Father.

son ?" continued the old man, clasping his wrist.

—

!

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. "

I

hear father, and will obey," said Paul, looking with reverence into

the venerable face, I

181

whose blue eyes gazed

ever disobeyed you

Can

?

fixedly into his

the time ever come,

when

"

own. I will

Have

cease

to

obey ?"

The

man

old

pressed his hand kindly upon the forehead of his son.

" God's peace be upon you, Paul," he said, and, light in hand, hurried

along the corridor toward his chamber.

which he had spoken.

his child

ing form of his

It

was

his nightly farewell

-and,

gazing upon the reced-

Paul arose,

father, entered

the door

opposite

that

of the

to

sealed

chamber.

Ere an

instant

light of a fading

The lamp head,

own room.

stood on a desk, and, struggling with the gloom, revealed the

details of a small its

had passed, he had crossed the threshold, and by the

lamp, beheld the familiar features of his

whose

chamber, with a rude couch

shutters

were

fast closed

one corner, a window

in

at

and bolted, and a range of shelves

near the desk, burdened with dusky volumes.

Paul seated himself

cheek upon himself

in the

oaken

chair, near the desk, and, resting his

his hand, fixed his eyes sadly

upon

the light, and surrendered

to his thoughts.

Those thoughts were

at

once varied and tumultuous.

in gasps, as he sat enveloped

grew

his eye

large and vacant in

What power meditation

Now

of language

His breath came

by the gloom and silence of the chamber;

may

its

glance.

picture the nature of that hour of solitary

?

his

eye wandered

with clasps of steel and

to the shelves,

silver.

burdened with massive volumes,

There were

the

works of

the Astrologers

and Alchemists of the past ages, mingled with the writings of the spiritual dreamers and religious mystics of Germany, in the sixteenth century.

From boyhood, nay, from very and as his mind peculiar

childhood, Paul had dwelt upon their pages,

—gifted by the Almighty with a power as strange as

—grew into form,

it

it

was

had been moulded and colored by these written

Thoughts of Astrology, Alchemy, and Mysticism.

And amid

the large

volumes were two small books, which more than

once attracted the gaze of Paul, as he sat absorbed in that silent self-com-

munion.

The only

of Astrology or ticism.

books, indeed, which were not devoted to the dreams Alchemy, or the bewildering frenzies of Religious Mysti-

Plainly bound, their covers indicating

much

service, they bore

two rudely emblazoned names; one was "Shakspeare

—"

the

other,

"Milton."

How the heart of Paul bounded within him, as he thought of the day when, from an obscure corner of a neglected chest, he had drawn forth these priceless volumes

Near

his

elbow was another volume;

bore the bold, firm characters of the

it

was open, and

Hebrew

tongue.

It

its

was

broad pages the Bible

— |

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

182

—

New in one language which Paul had read copy of the Book which he possessed. Dearer he

the Old Testament and the for years

;

prized

than

it,

the only

works of Alchemy or Astrology, dearer even than

his

all

the reveries of Religious Enthusiasm

more precious than

;

was,

it

to his soul, a

thousandfold

the pages of those seers of the heart, Shakspeare and

Milton.

For from

Hebrew volume, the Lord God of Heaven unknown Boy of Wissahikon, and talked in Other World. The Hebrew did not seem to him the

that boldly printed

and Earth talked

to

the language of the

him, the

language of men, but the awful and mysterious tongue of Angels. syllables of

music

rolled,

and deep,

full

though a

into his soul, as

Its

spirit

whose meaning pene-

stood by him, while he read, pronouncing the words, trated his brain.

Does

it

not seem to you a thought of

some

hikon Monastery, experience

its

And the

—

yet, as

its

sits the

Boy

— a vague

blank

into a distant land,

all the

world

from

his soul, escaping

where the palm

trees stand

the shore of the mysterious Jordan, or

waves, creeping up the beach of Galilee, break

God

of the Wissa-

cell

him.

to

he glances over the Hebrew page,

noonday sun, by

in the

this

of Nineteen, shut out from

love and hate

narrow room, goes out

and beauty?

interest

Here, enshrouded in the gloom and silence of

where

the

in ripples at the feet of the

enshrined in flesh.

amid the silence and shadow of that Eden whose1 joy was without a pang, whose flowers concealed no poison, whose naked Eve came, sinlessly and without shame, to the lake, and saw the serene sky Or, he

is

arch above her, the clear waters smile of the Babel

Tower

— with

at

the earnest

her

Then with

feet.

Moses, leading

forth

the builders

from Serfdom

a nation of slaves, and leading them to Civilization and Religion the warrior-poet David, after the lapse of the

and Job the sublime

whose love

many thousand

—

or, last

of

all,

to

Jonathan

centuries

— with

beautiful even

is

— with

now,

Isaiah the Beautiful

and most, beautiful of

all,

with that

toil-worn face, which one day looked forth from the hut of a carpenter,

and said

walk

to all the

world

like a Brother

The

—

"

God, enshrined

among ye

the sons of

thoughts of Paul, at this

still

in flesh

and

toil,

has come

to

men."

hour, dwell not altogether upon the

pages of the Hebrew Bible, nor do they wander in the fairy world of

Shakspeare, or with the "

It is

seem

strange

to call

— but

me suddenly

true

mine.

afar from the

!

into a

survey the Past, with fear

Bred

Phantoms of Milton.

terrible

it is

The words, the very tone of my father, new life. I stand upon the Present and

— with

A

trembling.

world— within

the only faces familiar to me, are the faces of

those faces, beyond the forest home whose darkness is not enlightened by

Beyond chaos,

singular

life

has been

the walls of this forest

my lies

home

Father and Catherine. the great world, a

a single star.

Our

life

dim has

— THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. Our

been very rude in this forest home.

We

was worn by our ancestors.

183

our

fare simple,

such as

attire

have neither decked ourselves

gay

in

pamper appetite. Water from grows in the fields, beyond the

apparel, nor slain a living thing in order to the spring \f oods

— bread

— the

from the corn that

fruits of

such has been the

summer and

the bloodless produce of the garden

of the old

fare, for years,

man

of Wissahikon and his

children.

Had

"

i

eaten of flesh, or drunken of wine, there might mingle with

blood an impetuous desire to see the great world, and join in

war

less

which

Men

"But

call

life

into that great

my

relent,

shall

Ocean

Death.

Oath

this

murmur,

flows, without a

it

my

But here, within these walls,

fame and gold.

for

glide gently on, until

its

— the

Sealed

Chamber

—

the

strange

my

agitation of

Father?

"What

are

his

plans

in regard

my

to

The

Future?

Deliverer for

—

whose coming we watched so long, came but an hour ago Wherefore does my father say to me, 'Wait one year P or Until I am dead, *

PaulP "I have never heard myself addressed by any other name than Paul Ardenheim my father's name is also unknown to me. Hold Black David, the deformed, who sometimes comes to the Monastery, and bears

—

messages

!

for

my

It is

not for

the

father to

city,

may know

our name.

Shall

I

ask him? "

No

secrets,

!

me

But

his feet, to wait in patience.

dwell for ever in this

home

heaven-like in her beauty,

—so

like

Prophet Shakspeare speaks, that within these walls, neglected and

You

my

will

remember,

that

— the

She

?

I

view.

It

for

is

fair,

so beautiful,

one of those could

father's to sit at

— Shall she —and yet so

future of Catherine

so

unknown

weep

women

to think

?

of

whom

the

of her dying

!"

Paul applied the word " Prophet" alike

They had

Shakspeare and Milton.

is

my me

which enshrouds

to lift the curtain

and conceals his purposes from

to

received their intellect from Cod, and

—

was good in them was God-like therefore so the crude Enthureasoned— they were his Prophets, whenever they enunciated a divine thought or embodied a holy truth. "I cannot banish the thought. It seems to encircle me, and force me It is the thought of the mystery to answer its mysterious questions. which overshadows our life, all dark as I look to the past, darker yet as

all that

;

siast

—

I

gaze into the future.

Father

!

Father

!

Would

that the time

were here,

when, placing me on one hand, and Catherine on the other, your could tell to us the history of your life, and the history of ours !" Paul felt his brow grow feverish as it rested upon his hand, while dilating eyes

were fixed upon

was an impressive scene.

the half-shadowed w.alls of his

That narrow chamber, dimly

room.

lighted,

lips

his It

with the

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

184

form of that darkly

Enthusiast seated

attired

in

the centre of

light

its

gloom, his bronzed face and earnest eyes manifesting thought

at

and

once

intense and bewildering.

Paul arose and paced the

came upon him

It

floor.

suddenly,' like a burst of voluptuous music, like a

gush of intoxicating perfume,

— the

memory

like a

dream of fragrance and moonbeams

woman whom he had

of the beautiful

seen to-night, for the

time.

first

His

cell

flashing

^ was

full

of gloom, but even in the gloom he could see her

eyes,— it was very

still

the old Block-house, but through the

in

he could hear her voice, whispering words of wild, boundless

stillness

passion.

Wherever he

saw

turned, he

a vision of a beautiful form,

half-reveajed, panted slowly into light, and throbbed into

whose bosom,

warm

loveliness,

beneath his gaze.

seemed

It

a fever

—

though the vision had rushed upon him

as

his heart beat in tumultuous

throbs

— he

like the frenzy of

gasped

for breath,

and

wildly stretching forth his hands, tottered to the chair.

Veiling his eyes, he endeavored to banish that voluptuous image.

she was there, before him forehead

— her

— he

breath upon his cheek.

Again, her darkly flowing hair

swept over his face; again his blood was voice whispered gently

— and

am yours

was

It

these words "

It

is

*

from

and

for the

To my

my

Deliverer came.

very

for

you, Paul.

Have loved you

midst of this voluptuous frenzy, that Paul cast his glance

light,

—

and flame by turns, as her

ice

have waited

I

for ever !"

in the

toward the

—"

But

her hand trembling softly over his

felt

first

time beheld a

letter,

inscribed with

son.'

He must

father.

I will

have written

banish the maddening

it

last night, before the

memory

—and yet— she

is

— very beautiful !"

He

broke the

seal,

and read the

letter, traced in

the tremulous

hand of

his father. Sunset,

December

31, 1774.

My Son— In case the hope, in which false,

and the Deliverer

years, does not

come

for

I

have lived

whom we

for

seventeen years, proves

have waited in Prayer, for so

even then, Paul,

it is

my

purpose

many

to fulfil,

with

command of the Lord. From your infancy you have been devoted to God. You have been sacred from the world, set apart from the faces of men. The relentless lust of traffic, the feverish desires regard to you, the

of ambition, the hollow sophistries and cold selfishness of the great world,

have not polluted your virgin the wilderness

—

a

life,

intellect.

You have bloomed

pure and serene as the

stars.

into life in

Therefore, to-morrow,

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. at the

hour of sunset,

dedicate

you

my

purpose of

will fulfil the

I

185

heart,

and solemnly

God.

to

Behold the manner of

this dedication.

The upper rooms of our mansion you have never seen. They But when you sealed to all human eyes, and have been for years.

which extends between those rooms, you will read on names of Anselm Joseph Immanuel.

verse the corridor

my

they

—

house and home,

left

Our creed was simple

Brotherhood.

— and

Together, in these woods,

derness together.

With me

brothers, not in the flesh, but in the spirit.

Germany,

left

—

—

those closed doors, the

These were

are tra-

While you were but a

—Love

we to

we came

into the wil-

reared the altar of our

Man

is

Love

to

God.

and Catherine scarcely a babe of two

child,

my

years, they died, these brothers of

heart,

and

left

me

alone in the old

vowed a solemn vow that you and Catherine should be devoted to the great work of our Religion. I vowed k, clasping their chilled hands, with their glassy eyes fixed upon me vowed it to each one as he sunk back in the wave of death. A month or more mansion. In their death-hour,

I

—

intervened between their deaths

were gathered

to the

— To-morrow brothers loved

will

I

— in

the space of half a year they

all their

solemnly dedicate you lives,

and clung

to

to the

will be called upon, first of

all, to

work which those

with unfaltering faith in the

hour of death.

You

all

grave.

take this

vow

— " In the presence

of God, and surrounded by the skeletons of the Brothers of the good

vow

cause, I do

my

"And or

devote

to

my

all

efforts, to

my

bend

life,

my

intellect,

wealth, to the progress of that cause.

my

further riage,

my strength may not

in order that

brain clouded

by any

solemnly vow,

nor

to

in the

look upon a

bride shall be the

be weakened,

my heart clogged,

of earth, or taint of earthly passion, I do

tie

presence of the dead, never to contract mar-

woman

good cause

My

only

life, its

final

with the eye of sensual love.

— my

only hope and aim in

success."

Are you ready

for this

vow,

my

son

?

Let your time be passed in

Prayer, so that the hour of sunset to-morrow does not find

you unpre-

pared.

Your Father. While the young man perused emotion.

There was no color

the last words.

of

all

The paper

fell

this

in his

paper, his face indicated powerful rounded cheeks, when he came to

from his hands, and, with a sudden

failure

physical or mental strength, he sank unconscious in his chair.

The lamp, glimmering with motionless form, seemed not stern mental contest

a faint lustre over his

to disclose a living

marked

features

but a dead man.

which had shook his reason

to its centre,

and

The

and de-

"

:

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

186

prived his strong mind of

its

him

native vigor, left

and cold

stiffened

in

every nerve.

was

It

after a

long pause that he awoke from his stupor, but with his

glance of consciousness he beheld his father's

first

started from his seat, and pulling forth a drawer,

the side of the desk, he

was about

At once he

letter.

which was concealed

in

place the letter with the manuscripts

to

which the drawer contained, when his attention was suddenly enchained by a new object of wonder. A slip of paper, not more than two inches on the manuscripts,

in breadth, lay

On

out from the white surface.

bold characters standing blackly

its

paper, IJaul beheld a few words,

this

The

written in a quaint and vigorous old English character.

scarcely dried

;

the paper

was

indeed, as Paul-, ere perusing

he beheld the date of

light,

mounted by

The

"

have

a British

ink

is

words, held

its

woven

fabrication,

its

Crown and

between

it

character

is

1590. scarcely dried — have no paper but

strange

let

me. read

it first,

texture, sur-

its

That date was

coat of arms.

I

in

;

and the

his eyes

like

my

this in

my

ever seen any thing of this kind in possession of

I

ink was

from any he used

different in quality

desk, nor

The

father.

before wasting the time in

vague conjectures—" ^timigljt, ©etemuet

31, 1774.

Co

Paul, -Baton of 2fitoenl)enn fitter tije boot mitlj tije €to$0 upon itg Cljau jsezke^t to fenotaj* panels .^earclj tiyz litn- iClje $a£t anu future toill uc openeo to tljee" There

is

no signature," exclaimed Paul, as he sunk back

bewildered

utterly

—

The mystery

"

my drawer that my father

placed this paper in

not

my

nerves

upon this mystery Again he examined the paper

The

i

—

must not think of

but, I

shame

moment hands

Search the urn

4

;

the ink

'

it.

there It

is

—

my

was very

it

ray of

black, the writing dis-

before the light— 1590. its

panels

!'

It

on

my

to

my

forehead.

half-uttered, flashed through

Chamber-

father It

thoughts, this idle message sent to

While these thoughts,

would be per-

an urn within the Sealed

would be treason

of falsehood would blister influence

for a

" water-mark," or date of the fabrication of the

Enter the door with the Cross upon

jury.

Oh,

!"

paper, was seen clearly, as he held "

—

not a single tremor of weariness or age.

and bold.

Who

faithfulness to the

not a few

light to shine

tinct

my

test

!

traced these singular

moments ago ? But no it is These words were written by a firm hand, whose

father's hand.

knew

wishes to

in the chair,

grows darker

life

Whose hand

?

words ? Can it be vow which I took upon myself

my

of

—yes, the

cannot for

a

me by unknown

the brain of Paul,

—

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. the

words: "Enter the door with the Cross upon

187 panels," rang un-

its

ceasingly in his ears.

The paper

from his hands, and rested on the desk beside his

fell

father's letter.

"

The Past and

!''

the Future will be opened to thee

Paul heard these words, as though a

spirit had,

spoken them gently

in

his ears.

"

I

" he uttered the words, swore a solemn oath, that I would not seat, paced up and down the floor of his narrow

and starting from his

room. All

was breathlessly

which stood that

at the

still

—he

could hear the ticking of the old clock,

—

remote end of the corridor, or hall

seemed

it

him

to

he could also hear the frenzied throbbings of his heart.

He was

He was

lost in a wilderness of conflicting thought.

possessed by a yearning desire

to

know

mystery of

the

his life,

once

at

and with

a terrible consciousness of the guilt which would darken his soul, in case

he violated his oath.

Baron

" Paul,

"Baron

of Ardenheim," he muttered

have heard those words before

I

To-night

!

—

Baron Ardenheim Is name by which he was known in the great world

rock of Wissahikon.

!

Paul took the lamp, and went from that hours of thought

— and closing the

An unbroken

dor.

all

it

my

—the

The lamp

stillness prevailed.

— shone

!

stood on the

I

father's

title,

the

?"

dearest

home

of his

gloom of the

door, stood in the

which the figure of a Cross was traced while

cell

of Ardenheim

was when

it

corri-

revealed the door on

distinctly

upon

its

panels,

Paul's features became violently agitated as

around was gloom.

he stood like a man bewildered by a superupon the dim Cross with expanded eyes. "The Past and the Future shall be opened to thee!" he murmured,

he glanced upon the door

;

natural spell, gazing

and advanced a single step.

Then came

another pause, in which Paul stood without motion in the

centre of the corridor, his

face

colorless, his eyes

expanded and un-

naturally brilliant.

"

Past

No

No

!

me

is to

by phantoms kiss to

upon

!

In the

name

a dim chaos * * *

his lips as

r

of God,

— the

No

!

I

I will

to

my

bury these fearful thoughts in Prayer

through the breathless stillness

It

own was

was

father's couch,

he slumbers, and then come back

Passing along the corridor

to his

dare not think of

it

!

— Yet

— the

and press

my

clock throbbing

all

that the door of the

the

was

still,

while

room next

chamber.

Inclining his head toward the dark panels, he listened All

my

room again

!"

old

—he saw

to

slightly opened.

his sister's

the

Future a starless midnight, peopled only

save the low, soft breathing of the sinless sleeper

188

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

•

" God's blessing upon thee

—no

thy rest yet

—

it is

a strange thought

the vow, and living thing

There are no

!

— thy

fate is like

swear with me, never "

to

dreams.

mar And

Thou must

take

phantoms

frightful

infernal temptation scares thy soul from

its

unto mine.

look with love upon the form of a

to

His brow clouded by a sombre expression, Paul passed on,

Next came

agitated in every feature.

Paul bent his head toward

its

panels

his face

the door of the old man's chamber.

—

all

was

silent

—

his father slept.

Softly unclosing the door, Paul passed the threshold, the light glim-

mering dimly over the one corner.

saw

With a

details of a cell-like place,

with a rude couch in

noiseless footstep Paul advanced to the couch, and

the form of his father, prostrate in slumber, the profile of his aged

He

face turned toward the light.

had flung himself upon the plain bed

without removing the dark robe from his spare limbs, and as he silver cross

His eyes were closed, his face very calm, and the

glow

faint

slept, the

shone like a point of flame upon his breast.

to his

snow-white

light

imparted a

hair.

Beside his bed, his lips firmly

set,

and his eyes glaring from the fixed

brows, stood his son, whose broad chest heaved with violent agitation, as

he silently surveyed the calm image of venerable age which slumbered before him.

Moved by the violent throbbings of his heart, the Cross which now disappeared, and as suddenly flashed into the light again. As

head of beheld

his couch, starting

this

had

father

this lone

from a recess

in

gloom of

many

came

times spoken to him,

at

the panelled walls.

statue with an involuntary tremor, for the

his

the

Paul

words which his

memory,

vividly to his

at

hour of night and thought.

"When Man

is

from

free

Redeemer has done

all

manner of bondage, when the mission of Lead become Gold,

perfect work, then shall the

its

and the Gloom be turned These words had often

upon

the

to

narrow room, he beheld a singular statue which rose

father's

the

became more accustomed

the eye of Paul

he wore

into unutterable fallen

Joy."

from his father's

the singular statue, half-revealed

by

lips

his light, he

—as

Paul looked

remembered them

with painful distinctness. It

was

a figure of the Saviour,

clad in the

humble garments of

unutterable sadness.

The

moulded or carved in lead, the form and the face stamped with a look of

toil,

large motionless eyes, the lips agitated

smile that had more of sorrow than joy for head, stamped with a sublime despair

—

all

its

mouldecl of lead

the heart of the gazer with sensations of peculiar awe.

"That Image, Paul — "

the old

man was wont

not of the Saviour triumphant over death and

among

the creeds

by a

meaning, the great fore-

to

evil,

and sophistries of the Church.

say

—impressed

— "Is

the Image,

but of Jesus imprisoned

There

is

a

singular

THE MONK OF THE WISSAIIIKON. tradition connected with the statue,

my

son.

189

was moulded by

It

the hand

of a Hussite heretic, who, imprisoned by the followers of Papal power,

was

offered

—

life

and liberty on one condition.

'

You

are an

they

artist,'

Your hand is cunning in the arts of painting- and sculpture. Carve for us an Image for our Altar, and you shall be free !' The heretic, encumbered by his chains, heard them, and lifting his sunken features from Of what the shadows of his cell, faltered a response to their request. metal will you have it?' Of gold !' Whose image shall I carve?' 'The Give me some lead, and let Blessed Saviour triumphant over death me have a furnace, so that 1 may prepare a model of the statue which you desire They consented. For weary days and nights, the Hussite was secluded in his cell, toiling steadily at his labor. They became imsaid

'

'

'

'

—

'

'

!

patient, but

he replied, pointing

'Soon

it

While

his form,

the statue, imprisoned in

wasted by persecution and

its

trembled like a

toil,

mould,

the door of his cell. leaf,

and

hollow and care-worn, looked like the cheek of a corse, he led

his cheek,

the throng of priestly

Image of

to

One morning he unclosed

will be done.'

Lords across

the. threshold.

the Saviour triumphant over death.

my

into gold, for I felt that

hour was near.

I

So

I

'You asked of me an could not mould a Lie

Him

moulded

and moulded him, not as he appears in the Bible, but as he

Church, chained by your hollow forms and blasphemous

— behold — the Image

of the Imprisoned Jesus

!'

while the Priests encircled him in fiery anger, he

That Image was hurled

into

some

He fell

of lead,

your

in

is

Behold

ritual.

said this, Paul, and

back cold and dead.

forgotten corner, for the Priests felt that

was an eternal rebuke upon their heathenish worship. followers of Huss lifted it from the dark corner, they bore it to

divine despair

its

But 'the

their secret place of

and now

worship,

it is

home

here, in the

of Wis-

sahikon, a stern Image of the Church, which imprisons the Soul of the

Blessed Saviour in a leaden aud lifeless

when

son,

the

Lead

into changeless

joy;

will

become Gold, and

when

ritual.

The day comes, my

the unchanged

the Lord, no longer imprisoned

walk freely once more, into the homes and hearts of

Such was

— lar

It

and nearer to

mass.

life,

it

seemed

to

him

that

;

but as Paul held the light near

he did not merely behold a face

lifeless metal.

A

my

is

imprisoned in that leaden

Soul enclosed/in the fixed eyes and despair-stricken forehead

of the Image side

it,

cannot banish the thought that a Soul

I

—a Soul

father's

which

is

that listens to

couch

—reads

dark and terrible

my to

me now heart

me

— watches me

— and

reads

as

I

stand be-

the Future

my

lips to

my

of

my

"I

will

!"

Paul shrunk back from the cold leaden eyes of the Image. press

shall

!"

been that the dull hue of the lead deepened the singu-

impression which the Image produced

**'

by creeds,

Men

the singular tradition of the Imprisoned Jesus.

may have

and form of

gloom be turned

father's forehead,

and then

retire to

my

bed

!'

— —

—

" 9

190

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

.

—

There was something altogether impressive in the sight that young face marked by the traces of powerful emotion, pressed against the withered countenance of the old man. As Paul bent down, the light which he held glowed more warmly over the leaden Image, and by the uncertain ray, the smile which dwelt upon the sad face of the Imprisoned Redeemer, seemed to change into a sneer. " Good night God's peace upon your gray hairs !" murmured Paul,

—

He

but his Father did not hear him.

calm slumber of a serene

slept the

Conscience.

Paul raised his head, and

wandered from hand, and

for the

the rays

time, as

first

lamp

of his

the face to the form of the Image, he beheld the extended

felt all

a sudden tempest of

his serenity of soul vanish before

temptation and thought.

For on the

hand an iron key was suspended,

forefinger of that leaden

bearing a label on which these words were written, and written in his

hand

father's

"

Can

" ther

it

—"

THE KEY OF THE SEALED CHAMBER."

be," gasped Paul, ''that

he extended his hand as

denly withdrew

which

He

No

it

the

—

bears has been written not

touched the key, and

felt his

The

to

me

tempt

Fa-

?

key suspended It

to

hand drop

hours ago

to his

—

hand of

all

temp-

key, and the

though de-

side, as

Image seemed

face of the

to the

and forget

a massive

is

many

it,

smile upon

to

deep compassion.

in

Paul extended the the

left

might become accustomed

I

tected in an act of guilt.

him,

he has

!

means

father

rouse the aged man, but as sud-

the force of mechanical habit.

tation in

label

4

it

the Image, so that

my

if to

light,

and regarded the key with a fixed glance, while

Image looked upon him with

that sad smile, and the aged

man slum-

bered unconsciously beneath his gaze.

His face manifested an intensity of mental agony of

life

upon

his

cheek; while his

lips

;

there

was no hue

were firmly compressed,

his large

dark eyes glared fixedly upon the leaden hand and the iron key. It

was

moment

a

Paul started it

was only

at a

of fearful thought.

sudden sound

" Father, the

trial is

brain with madness.

between

With

my a

terrible

light

moment

—"

Ah, there

an instant became calm again

is

faltered Paul.

a hope

—

I

may

"This ordeal for

fills

my

ever place a barrier

soul and this horrible Temptation;—"

father, he strode

old he paused, held the light

That

in

sudden grasp he seized the key, and casting one glance toward the

slumbering face of his

a

— but

the old clock striking the hour of four.

gleamed

madly

to the door.

On

the thresh-

toward the bed, and looked over his shoulder.

faintly over his father's face, but as its ray

^hone for

over the image, Paul with a shudder saw the leaden features

move, and the fixed eyeballs glow with red

lustre.

—

"

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. He

191

dared not look again, but holding the light in his

hand, and

left

clutching the key in his right, he closed the door of his father's room.

He hastened with unsteady steps along the own chamber. "The key shall tempt me no longer — " "In

a

he said as he hurried along

of

my room

stood before his chamber, but the

same ray

moment, through

the

window

I will

hurl

it

forth into

!"

snow

the darkness and

He

corridor in the direction of his

that disclosed the panels

—

upon the Cross of the opposite door the door which led into the Sealed Chamber. Paul rushed madly toward it, as though all power of self-control had While his face was marked with the suddenly passed from his brain. of his door, also shone

which boiled

traces of that frenzy

like

molten

in

fire

every vein, he ex-

tended his hand, and attempted to insert the key in the lock.

His hand

trembled, and the attempt was vain.

Paul sank on

When

For

knees.

his

were deadened by

a

a

moment

all

was

a blank

;

his senses

sudden stupor-

reason and consciousness returned, he found himself

still

knees, the key clutched in his cramped fingers, while the cold

on his

damps

moistened his forehead.

"Ah,

the fearful trial

Slowly he rose

is

passed.

his feet,

to

I

Cross on the door, when a hand was It

was not

saved."

laid

upon

his face

tionless as stone.

hand touched

away from

its

pressure was soft

yet that scarcely perceptible pressure held Paul as

He

the

his shoulder.

the firm clasp of a vigorous hand, but

And

and gentle.

am

and was turning

mo-

could not turn and look upon the person whose

his shoulder, but, conscious of the terrible danger

had just escaped, he feared

to

gaze into the face of a

human

which he

being.

The

blush of shame glowed on his cheek. "It

is

my

father!" the thought crossed the

mind of

"He has watched me, and seen me place the key in He was afraid of the old man's wrinkled face and The hand was gular

warmth

still

to his

upon

his shoulder,

its

the Enthusiast

the lock

—

deep blue eyes.

soft pressure

imparting a sin-

frame.

"Father—" Paul

began.

"Paul!" answered

a voice, that

broke

in

deep emphasis upon the

still-

ness of the corridor.

And its

the

fingers.

hand which had pressed Paul

felt

his shoulder,

ing the light in his quivering hand, gazed

Did

the pale face

touched his neck with

the bload burn in every vein, as he turned, and, hold-

upon the

and high forehead of the old

the soft eyes and golden hair of Catherine

intruder.

man meet

his

gaze? Or

?

"Paul, are you afraid of Fortune! Afraid to cross that threshold and stand face" to face with your future fate !"

"

"

"

"

1

PAUL ARDENHEIM

192

was

It

the beautiful faee of a

love, that

met

woman,

;

OR,

the large dark eyes of passionate

the gaze of Paul, as he heard the voice,

fired his blood.

"Ah — madness

—"

again

and Paul retreated from the vision of impe-

tuous loveliness which glowed upon him from »

The Wizard's She was

by glossy

child

whose every accent

the

gloom of

the corridor.

5

!'

form enveloped in a robe of rich velvet, bordered Around her face, gathered the dark hood, whose folds

there, her

fur.

gave new beauty

Her

her face and relieved the intense blackness of her

to

up with a clear unchanging radiance, flashed upon him from the shadow of their long fringes her velvet robe was agitated by the motion of her proud bosom. hair.

eyes, lighted

—

This vision completed the bewilderment of the Enthusiast.

Has

earth and heaven

combined against me

Is

?

not enough to be

it

Not enough to feel the key of the Sealed my own heart Chamber in my grasp, and see the door gloom before me, its Cross burnMust the air give forth ing my very eyes with an incredible fascination its Spirits, and .the image which haunts my brain take bodily shape, and Away — away I will not peril come in incarnate loveliness to my side my soul, I dare not break my Oath — I cannot, cannot fling a lie into my tempted by

?

?

—

!

father's face !"

Deep and echoing,

woman

lips of the

"I am no in copious

spirit,

The warm

his voice swelled through the corridor.

parted in a smile.

Freely and

Paul," she said, and flung back her hood.

While

waves, her raven hair descended upon her shoulders.

her olive cheek was fired with vermilion, and her large eyes moisture, and the ripe redness of her parting lips the whiteness of her teeth, she touched his

swam

in

was contrasted with

arm with her

soft

hand, and

glided nearer to his side.

"

Whence come you

"Is

it

?" cried Paul.

home

so far from your

to

mine

?

Only

a mile,

leads over the Wissahikon, and through the woods.

"But

the night

dark and dreary

is

—

cold

— the

ground

is

—

by the path

covered with snow

know it, Paul, but the Voice bade me seek your home "The Voice?" echoed the bewildered Paul.

" I

"Do you

not

remember

uriant hair from her face

?"

—"

She

laid

forest

—

— again she smiled, and dashed aside the lux-

It

was

and your love. And after you thrust me from you and—

—

— the

that

me many hour

the voice that told

left

her finger upon the slight

me,

nofe

wound which marred

long ago of you ago, after

you

the pale beauty

of her forehead.

"After all this had occurred, and I was desolate and alone, the Voice spoke again and told me that you loved me still, told me that you would

"

"

—

"

!

;

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. yes,— it

return,

told

me

that together

193

should climb the height of fame

we

and power."

How

Paul was spell-bound.

glowed

It

was no It was

voluptuous

into

hand upon

brightness, as, placing her

words

that trembled over his neck.

liness

new

her eyes flashed into

his neck, she uttered these

life,

spirit voice that

spoke, no spirit hand

woman, whose proud loveher lips murmured " We should

a beautiful as

—

climb the height of fame and power!" "After the voice had spoken these words of hope to me,

dreams

I

saw your

moment

thy lover in the direst

away

Again

face.

Away

of his fate?

The door

door of the Monastery.

is

open

—thou

Chamber and

"Do

fear not.'

obeyed,

I

In

my

of Paul

wilt find

at the

thy lover

Bid him enter the Sealed

trembling on the threshold of his Fortune.

head,

home

to the

path which crosses the Wissahikon, and terminates

by. the

"The

I slept.

heard the Voice—' Would'st thou aid

I

Paul— and am

here."

Sealed Chamber!" echoed Paul.

you fear?" and the touch of her hand, trembling over

rilled

his fore-

every vein of the Enthusiast with the frenzy of passion.

—

"Do

you hesitate? I am but a weak woman " how proudly her bosom " I may not pierce the cloud of mystery heaved as she said the words which encircles us. But to woman, in her very weakness, God hath given !

a

power akin

Prophecy

to

—

it is

the instinct of her heart,

it is

Paul

—

the inspira-

—

That power, Paul, tells me that your future our future, within the Sealed Chamber. Do you love me ? Enter, and do

tion of her love. lies !"

not fear It

seemed

Paul that he could

to

and while her eyes flashed in closer

his

to

all

listen for ever to the

their brightness,

own, heaved and swelled

in

music of her voice

and her form, gliding

every vein

;

the Enthusiast

could not turn his gaze away, even for a single moment, from this picture of voluptuous beauty.

"You new

life,

love

me!" he gasped

whose form seems

to

—"You, whose

me more

glances

beautiful than a

—you—" "

fill

my

soul with

dream of Heaven

—

Love you !" exclaimed the Wizard's daughter " Is it so strange, I have seen your form, in my dreams by night and dreams by day, more than a year? Do you still hesitate? The key of your Fate is

when for in

your hand

—

" But the Oath which spot, at the feet of

Upon

the

my

brow of

I

took, not one hour ago, kneeling

father

—

on

this

very

the beautiful girl darkened a slender vein, swelling

with a serpentine outline from the transparent skin.

"Father!" she echoed, her face so near the visage of Paul, that he her breath

And she

upon

his

cheek

—"I remember—

clasped her forehead with her hands. 13

felt

"

"

PAUL ARDENHEIM

194

;

OR,

" You remember — "

The words

of the Voice," said the Wizard's daughter: "as

seek your home,

— 'Tell him,

Paul, that the "' himself his Father, has no right to that sacred name it

also said

Paul shrunk back from her

•

"

Who

calls

"'Tell him

himself

my

father

also, that the

his father's

Had

name

—"

bade

me

calls

a

—

mystery of

walls of the Sealed Chamber.

—

it

man who

looking into her glowing face with

side,

glance of vacant terror.

tell

his life is concealed within the

Once beyond

its

know

threshold, he will

'

these words been spoken

by

the withered lips of age, the

glow of

anger would have crimsoned the face of Paul, the fierce denial risen

to

his tongue.

But they were uttered by and as they

fell

on the

lips that

were ripe with youth and passion;

listener's ears, his

whose eyes flashed with As he heard the strange

eye was enchained by a face

love, through the intervals of long flowing hair.

revelation, he

saw the tumultuous motion of her

velvet robe, he felt the trembling of her form, as she pressed nearer to his heart

CHAPTER EIGHTEENTH. PAUL ALONE WITH THE TEMPTER.

— " he exclaimed, as he led the way I would speak with you own room, and placed the light upon his desk. " Let me have — one moment of calm thought, — only a moment " and his gaze was "Lady,

into his

rivetted

to the

key of

the Sealed

Chamber, which he clenched

in his

right hand.

The

girl,

whose eyes shone with changeless

chair, her robe quivering with the

brightness,

sunk

into a

impetuous pulsations of her bosom.

Not

once did she remove her gaze from the pale features of the Enthusiast.

There were some moments of unbroken

stillness

—Paul was

alone with

the Wizard's daughter.

Not

in her

own chamber,

Block-house which had ing his

brow upon

as

some few hours

for years

ago, but in that cell of the

been the home of his thoughts.

his hand, he could only gaze in her face,

wild and bewildered with the dazzling beauty of her eyes.

Rest-

and grow

"

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. As he gazed,

mind

his

agitated

195

by contending memories.

All that

he had ever read of woman, came crowding on his brain, in a throng of

She seemed

contrasted images.

to

him

some form of which he had women, whose surpassing

like

read; like the fascinating image of one of those

beauty gives freshness and bloom to their memories, even after their love-

crumbled into grave-yard mould; and the shadows of dead ages

liness has

brood darkly over their dust.

Was by

Ruth, so pure and beautiful, who, with her brown cheek lighted

it

Judean sun, bent

the

toiling

amid the

sheaves of the rich man's

full

whose dazzling loveliness made the Poet-King a Traitor and Murderer? Or the star-eyed daughter of Eg^t, whose gorgeous beauty inspired the Son of David with that glowing Love-drama, called the Song of Solomon? Or the Juliet of Shakspeare, the Eve ot Milton, or some creation of his own brain? Did she resemble the voluptuous form, which, gliding one summer day before Herod the King, so maddened his soul, that he gave her, as a birth-day gift, the head of the Bathsheba,

field?

Baptist?

The impression which

made upon the She seemed

the beauty of the Wizard's child

soul of Paul, mingled these images with a darker association.

him something

to

like the tender Esther, the daughter of

Mordecai the

Jew, with a shadow of Shakspeare's Lady Macbeth, darkening over her white brow.

Yes, even as Paul

Thought. "

the inspiration of her eyes, she

felt

embodiment of some

tiful

You

hesitate

— " she

seemed a beau-

fearful deed, the splendid shrine of a Satanic

said, raising her

white hand and sweeping the

luxuriant hair from her face.

Paul was

silent.

He

could hear the monotonous sound of the old clock

— the throbbing of his heart— and

the death-like stillness impressed

omen of approaching Evil. " Hesitate, when there is greatness

him

with an

to

be achieved, glory

won by

a solitary

She bent forward, until the light shone fully upon her face her eyes grew brighter, her lips assumed a more passionate red. "Greatness Glory?" echoed Paul, in an absent tone; and then came a murmured thought " What grandeur of earthly power is worthy for a exertion of your will!"

—

—

moment

to

What

form?

—

be placed in the balance with the possession of this beautiful glory like the beauty of her eyes

" Listen to me, Paul.

with mystery. for

life

Your

Yet

life

has been like your own, strange and dark

that our fate

is

linked, through

good and

ill,

or death, either for purposes of glory, or for deeds of shame.

heart confirms

explain that which I

My

I feel

—

is

my

words.

Our destiny

so dark with mystery

—

is

I

one.

It is

not for

me

to

can only speak that which

feel—" "

Speak

— you

would have me break

my

Oath, scatter confusion and

"

!

;

196

PAUL ARDENHEIM

.

my

shame upon

gray hairs, and

father's

unpardonable crime

OR,

;

myself with the

taint

guilt of

—"

"No, Paul. I would have you as great, as noble as your destiny. I know not the world, have no intelligence of its people or its passing events, but I feel that the time comes, when a strong arm, nerved by a great soul,

may

grasp a crown, even from the hand of death, and carve a glorious des-

tiny,

even from the elements of carnage and ruin."

"It

well

is

— a crown, a throne

word with shuddering

the

"The The

"

hereafter?"

But

!

the hereafter

— " Paul pronounced

distinctness.

— and her

face

was stamped by

vague wonder.

a

Othe* World, that unknown sea, whose waves break

murmurs on Hereafter!

the

0,

shores of this

it is

That to-day we

To dream

"The Other World! perchance misery.

Or,

— " Paul

It is

for

— " The

we are and to-morrow we are

live,

no other world

instant, that there is

a mystery; perchance

may

it

an

in indistinct

wildly exclaimed

even for a moment, that

terrible to think,

as the beasts of the field.

loathsome decay.

life

may

it

but

but

—

be happiness,

be nothing but a long and dreamless sleep.

world we were born.

know

It is in this

world that we

that I live

the breath of the flowers, the joy of the sun, the thought of

moonlight

;

—

are dear to

all

For

live.

me.

this

But the other world

That

stretched over the eastern sky at early dawn.

may

like a vague mist,

is

Paul started from that lovely countenance with his blood.

So

beautiful,

away,

mist, passing

reveal the rising sun, or only disclose a darker cloud!"

chilled

I

.

Her words

affright.

and with no consciousness of a Better

World She was an

Atheist.

It

was

true.

With

all

her beauty, her grace of

step, and magic of look and tone, she had no definite conception of a future state, no actual belief in God. True, she prayed, but it was rather

a form of the lips than an inspiration from the heart.

by

his stern fanaticism,

ings

was

to

Her

had reared her thus, and the end of

impress her only with the joy of existence in

this

father, led

all

his teach-

world.

The

Voice, speaking from the stillness of her chamber, completed this singular education.

All that

was Religious

in her nature, bent

from

its

proper

tendency, became distorted into an insane Love, a grasping and boundless

Ambition.

That insane Love,

that unlimited ambition,

of Paul of Ardenheim.

He was

her Thought. it

thus

— only

were centred

She looked upon him

as

the

her Future, her Happiness, her

in the

image

embodied form of

—

if

we may speak

Hereafter.

Paul gazed sadly and with fixed eyes upon her glowing

face.

She

was near him her voice broke like music over the silence of his cell her bosom swelled beneath the dark robe, and her tresses, agitated by the wind which came through the aperture of the door, waved slowly to ;

and

fro.

— —

"

"

!

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. "Thou

very beautiful!" he

art so

completely intoxicated by the

face so fair to look upon, thy voice

music of a daybreak dream, thine eyes shining ever with to me like the brightness of a heavenly soul, and yet

like the delicious

seems

a light that

thou

said,

eyes—" Thy

strange brightness of her

197

—even

thou

—

He

Shrinking from her gaze, he covered his face with his Tiands.

Even

not the courage to complete the. sentence.

had

woman,

beautiful

this

with the voluptuous form and starry eyes, the voice that thrilled, and the

glowed with the warmth of passion, even she must he could not speak it.

lips

that

was

his thought, but

Absorbed

in his reverie,

to the charnel, the

worm upon

grave

be silent

thrills will

Paul murmured

There

!

will

to

die

This

!

—" The white bosom

himself

brow

the radiant

The

!

voice that

be no light in the face, for that face will

— dark — sealed forever."

be a skull, those eyes but hollow orbits, vacant

There was a hand upon his shoulder, and Paul heard her voice again. Heard it in every low whispering accent, but could not raise his eyes. " 'And thou must die!' This is your thought " her voice grew tremu-

—

hand tremble,

lous, nay, Paul felt the

must

true, I

But— " and

die.

as

it

touched his shoulder

Destiny

is

How

—

" It

is

her voice grew firm and strong again,

breaking in distinct emphasis on the listener's ear

accomplished

—

not until

our Fate

is

—

"

But not

until

my

made

the

fulfilled!"

the triumph of her voice pierced the listener's ear, and.

blood dance in his veins " Life

power.

Shall

the goblet as

we

before us, Paul, a goblet filled to the brim with love, with

is

raise

we

refuse to drink

Paul, ay, to the last drop, because

it,

held by a skeleton hand, or dash

is

it

to

our

lips,

it

Death stands mocking

down, untasted, because, as

he gives the cup?"

Radiant with beauty, she glowed before him, her eyes olive

"

full

of light, her

cheek glowing with fresh bloom.

Do

Come, Paul.

not falter now.

injunction of the aged

man

—

decides your fate and mine.

She

laid

To your

The

task.

oath

these are but a part of the ordeal,

—

the

which

Arise and seek your Destiny!"

her hand upon his arm, yes, upon the key clenched in his

right hand.

"

I

am

lost

—

I

tremble

— there are Phantom

forms before

my

eyes, and

strange music, like a chorus of angel's songs and the laughter of fiends, rings without ceasing in

"Do you

falter?

my

ears

—

Up, and know your

fate.

It is

from the Past and the Future, the shadows will

from the dawning day. Sealed Chamber, and

Pass the threshold

— Paul— canst

the hour, Paul, roll aside,

—know

thou not read

the

my

when,

as a mist

mystery of the

thought ere

it

is

spoken " Speak!" in her eyes

Starting from his seat, Paul endeavored to read her

meaning

"

"

PAUL ARDENHEIM

198

"This room

shall

be our Bridal Chamber," whispered the Wizard's

daughter.

"And

OR,

;

the hour of our Bridal

—" When you have passed Sealed Chamber — of

— " Paul advanced the Ordeal.

a single step.

will await

I

you

at the thresh-

the

old

" Our Bridal*" echoed Paul, and grasping the

room, and in an instant stood

light,

he hurried from

his

in the corridor again

CHAPTER NINETEENTH. THE THRESHOLD OF THE SEALED CHAMBER.

was not

It

new

life,

the

moment

for

calm thought,

for

every vein swelled with

and the heart within him throbbed with such violence,

that

even

in the cold corridor, he panted for breath, for air.

"

I

will dare the worst, for

you

—"

was

his voice

indistinct, hoarse

.with emotion.

With

a trembling

hand he placed the key

in the lock.

The Wizard's

daughter regarded his ghost-like face with a look of glowing triumph. " Enter," she softly whispered

Future

— " Enter

and learn the Past and the

!"

Paul turned the key

—the door

began

to

recede

—

the

passed

through the crevice, almost extinguished the

seemed

tainted with the odor of the dead;

it

heavy light.

which That air

air

resembled a blast from the

unclosed jaws of a charnel. The Wizard's daughter regarded him with an expanded eye, and love

and curiosity mingled

in the expression of her beautiful face.

you falter now?" she said. There was a soft footstep, and a gentle hand raised the hand of the woman from the neck of Paul. Between them glided a young girl, who

"Do

gathered a dark mantle around her white dress, and with her loosened hair resting in a golden

shower upon her shoulders, and her

eyes distended by a look of vague alarm, she gazed

voluptuous woman,

now

in the

now

clear blue

in the face of the

ashen visage of Paul.

"Catherine!" and he turned away from the innocence and angel-like purity of his sister's face.

"Paul," exclaimed the pure girl, in tones whose calm serenity by no means resembled the impetuous accents of the dark-haired woman "You stand on the threshold of the Sealed Chamber

—

—

"

"

"

"

;

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. There was a sad reproof

in her gentle eyes.

—what know you of

"

The Sealed Chamber

"

Do you frown upon me, at his

of breaking that

vow

feet, I

—

More darkly swelled

its

mystery?"

Are you angry with your sister? An sleep by the sound of father's voice, I saw

Paul

my

hour ago, aroused from

you kneeling

199

?

—O, Paul, you do not dream

heard your vow.

upon

the serpentine vein

the

forehead of the

Wizard's daughter, as she beheld the pure face of Catherine, holy emotion, as she clung "

He

not your father," she cried

is

Future darker even than the Past

The mild

fired

with a

her Brother's neck.

to

face of Catherine

—

— " He

has in reserve for you a

was turned toward the beautiful woman She shrunk trembling from

her blue eyes shone with wonder and alarm. the light of her flashing eyes.

— me with clasping Paul " whispered —"Can be? You stand on threshold of the Sealed Chamber, about your oath " Catherine— Catherine — "groaned Paul, hand which grasped " am key nerveless by tempted — my — not my own " This scene

the sister,

terror,

fills

her brother's wrist

the

it

!"

to violate

as the

the

his side.

fell

He hair,

will

terribly

I

turned wildly from that face, whose blue eyes,

symbolized a pure and child-like soul,

to

fair skin,

is

and golden

the dark cheek, flashing

eyes, and jet-black hair, which embodied the idea of a proud and voluptu-

ous It

spirit.

was

moment

the eventful

Peace from God,

as

of his Fate; the calm love which

he looked upon his

sister's face,

came

like

contended with the

frenzy of passion which fired every vein, as his glance encountered the

gaze of the dark-haired

—

"

Come, Paul beautiful by your

to

woman.

your own room

Paul surrendered his hand

away from

—

it is

an Evil Angel that stands so

side." to the grasp of his sister,

and turned his face

the door.

The eyes

was With one proud step she advanced, her flashing eyes and wildly floating hair, making her look like the spirit of some of the Wizard's daughter glared with a brightness that

almost preternatural.

feverish

dream

;

she grasped his wrist, and pointed to the door, while the

dark vein swelled more distinctly from her

"You white

teeth, until the

blood started—"

and you are afraid to stand face

upon me,

fair

forehead.

are afraid!" she sneered, pressing her nether-lip beneath her

that I ever

The door

sank so low, even

is

open, the threshold free,

with your Destiny!

to face

in

my

O, shame

thoughts, as to bestow

my

upon a coward heart like thine!" " Your hand from my neck, sister," shrieked Paul, maddened by the look of the proud maiden " There is no time for thought. I must go on

love

—

—

"

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

200

Grasping the

light,

which showed

his convulsed countenance in every

lineament, he dashed over the threshold of the Sealed Chamber.

The

door closed behind him, and

all

was darkness

in the corridor.

"Father!" shrieked Catherine, but there was a firm hand upon her mouth, a frenzied arm around her neck. " Be

Catherine

still,

strange

woman. "It

therefore, or

—"

—

said the fierce though tremulous voice of the

the dread

is

moment of your

Catherine struggled but feebly, as that arm

while the firm hand rested upon her

brother's fate; be silent

wound

closer about her neck,

lips.

" Or, if you must speak, let every word take the form of a prayer. Kneel and beseech the Angels to guide your Brother in his lone commufate !"

nion with his

was thick night

All

in the corridor.

ing eyes of the strange

gathered her in a

woman, but she

"

I

will be silent," faltered the Sister

my

lost

her writhing heart, as the arm

embrace, and trembled as the fevered breath

stifling

fanned her cheek.

ness and pray for

Catherine could not see the burnfelt

—"

kneel here in the dark-

I will

Brother!"

The

strange woman's arm no longer entwined her neck. ^ Catherine sank on her knees, and folding her arms, looked up to

Even through

heaven. ©ut

arms

its

What pen

gloom and darkness, her pure soul reached

the

God.

to

there to picture the horror of that

is

moment

to the

Wizard's

daughter.

While her bosom bounded beneath her clasped hands, she muttered

in

a half-coherent tone, her doubts and hopes mingling in strange confusion:

"

He

come

will

forth,

with joy on his noble forehead * * * * Have

shame

advised him to his ruin and steep

pathway of ambition

his * * * *

—

I

A

terrible

he will be noble, and

;

—should cry —

doubt

hear no sound * * * a

* * *

No

Better

answer

die

!

Ah,

tnis

I

we

will

mount

will kill

—a

me

than be

—

I

the

shall be his bride,

the voice deceive * * * * All is

silence

thousand deaths

a

* * * * Together

still

groan * * # Paul! Paul! I

can endure

tortured

it

no longer.

by suspense so hor-

rible !"

And

while the voluptuous

girl

murmured her hopes and

tremulous and broken, the pure Sister kneeling at her

Heaven

The

in a

fears, in accents feet,

prayed

to

calm voice.

voice of the old clock rolled through the Block-house, and "Five!"

pealed from the

bell.

There was no sound within the Sealed Chamber; Catherine ceased to

pray, and bent her head against

its

panels, but could not hear

the

slightest echo.

The proud

girl too,

sweeping her hair aside from her

face, listened in

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON.

203

voiceless agony, listened for the accent of her lover's voice, tor the echo All

of his step.

"Paul!"

was

still.

cried the gentle voice of Catherine.

u Paul !" spoke the trembling accent of the Wizard's daughter.

No

answer

At

last there

woman

haired It

was

know "A It

—

Within the Sealed Chamber silence and mystery in the it was an hour of unutterable anguish.

!

eorridor darkness and suspense

was a sound

—

— Catherine

uttered a prayer, and the dark-

an exclamation of joy.

groan of agony, and yet they were glad

a

that he lived

footstep

was a

—he comes — "

to

hear

Glad

it.

to

!

footstep, but

cried the Wizard's daughter.

unsteady and irregular as that of a

man who,

bewildered by wine, reels from the hot air of the revel, into the cool, fresh

atmosphere of dawn.

The door

unclosed, and Paul Ardenheim appeared on the threshold.

one hand the

light, in the oftier the

In

key.

Even

Catherine sank on the floor with a cry of horror.

the

woman

with dark hair and proudly voluptuous bosom, staggered backward, and

She buried

leaned for support against the opposite wall of the corridor.

her face in her hands, while the insensible form of Catherine lay at her feet.

The

Ardenheim thrilled the Wizard's daughter with a feelbeyond all power of language to define or analyze. She heard the key turn in the lock, but could not raise her face from face of Paul

ing of horror,

—

He was passing near her echoes— yet, winding the hair about her her hands.

his wild unsteady step

face,

awoke

the

she shrunk closer to the wall,

afraid of his touch.

He was gone — she heard the echo of footstep —shuddering she turned her face over her shoulder. his

hurried along

;

his

back was toward her

;

far

the light

down

the corridor

She saw him as he shone over his long

dark hair, but did not reveal his face.

He was

near the end of the corridor

the face of the old clock,

and a white-haired

when

man came

— she saw the

forth

upon was heard,

light shining

the sound of an opening door

and stood in the path of Paul Arden-

heim. " Back, old

man !" The Wizard's daughter heard the voice, saw the exall was darkness. The light had been hurled to the floor.

tended arm, and

By

its

last

gleam, she beheld the old man's white hairs waving round

his forehead, as

he tottered backward, while his face glowed redly for a dull sound he fell.

moment, and then with a

— PAUL ARDENHEIM

202

—

OR,

;

CHAPTER TWENTIETH. THE, CORSE OF MADELINE.

"Very

beautiful !" said the

Wizard

—" Even

in the last

moment, when

the soul hangs fluttering on the motionless lips !"

His voice, deepened by enthusiasm, awoke the echoes of the subterranean vault.

The

pale spiritual light, shining from the aperture in the top of the altar,

bathed his face in

rays, while

its

all

around was shadowy, and the farther

corners of the cell were wrapt in thick darkness. In that light, his features were

marked and impressive.

with age and care, made his face appear as though

it

His form bending

rested in the centre

Covered with wrinkles, the lines deeply traced, and the high forehead surmounted by a black skull-cap, from which the

of his shrunken chest.

hair escaped in straight flakes of silvery whiteness, the face of Isaac

Behme

Van

bore the stamp of a fanaticism, that was to terminate only with

—

The eyes in color now blue, now deepening into gray were expanded beneath the white brow, with a wild, unearthly stare.

his existence.

Around Clad

his thin lips trembled a smile of inexpressible joy. in a loosely flowing

upon

fingers, clasped

gown, with

his pale hands, with long attenuated

man

his breast, the old

stood near the altar; and as

the light imparted a rosy flush, his face appeared ten years younger; but

when it cast a glare of faint summoned to his task of evil, His eyes, dilating "

It

was

any thing but a with rapture, were downcast like

a brave thought, right brave,

a burst of shrill

her form upon

laughter—"

it,

Demon

azure, he looked like a phantom, a

—

To

by

my

living

soul !" he

man.

murmured, with

use the horse of friend Dorfner, and place

and thus convey her

—Dorfner

to

my home

!

The

horse

I

turned

wonder much when he seeks Wherefore did the Huntsman strike that blow and his horse to-morrow! Jealousy, I ween 'Twas a good star that led pierce her naked breast? me to her side, just as the hunter struck the blow and fled, with the bloody But I must not delay— look! knife in his hand— a most propitious star

down

the path

by

the stream

—

will

—

!

How

the soul flutters as

Near the

altar a

it is

about

to

take

its flight

!"

rough pine board was placed, supported by two rudely

constructed tressels.

On were

this

board was laid the form of a naked woman, whose outlines

distinctly defined,

amid the shadows of the

vault.

The

light

shone

mildly over the image of sinless purity, revealing the hands stretched by the side, the limbs disposed in the serene attitude of the grave, the face

—

—

!

!

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON.

203

wearing a calm smile, the eyelids closed, and the colorless cheeks relieved A soft brown hair, which descended over the neck and shoulders.

by

single lock strayed over the edge of the board It

was

like a

under the chisel of some inspired sculptor

The

was

face

and dangled on the

floor.

form of pure white marble, warming into heavenly

— so

fair,

life,

so pale, so beautiful

burned in the centre

pale, but a single spot of intense red

of each cheek, like a rose-bud peeping from the snow.

Beneath the bosom was a hideous stain of crimson-r-it was blood flowing from a fatal

wound, and spreading imperceptibly over the rough board

on which the unconscious form was

Poor Madeline There may have been no mercy gloated

upon your half-revealed

upon your uncovered form icy glare

Her

—

is

laid.

in the

eye of your Seducer, when he

eye

breast, but the cold

there

any thing of pity

now

that

gazes

and

in that fixed

?

moves

nether-lip

gently, almost imperceptibly, and a slight pulsa-

tion stirs the bleeding breast.

" She lives

warm from

The

!

great Secret

is

within

my

grasp

4

one drop of blood,

me

the heart of a tempted but sinless maiden,' will reward

these gray hairs

— for the

now simmering

within the

glorious thought

of twenty-one years,

toil

— and ripen the

Elixir of Immortal Life.

altar, into the

Blessed be the Star that shines upon

!

me

for

liquid, It is

a

at this still

hour!"

which covered the lower part of Madeline's became rigid in every outline as he pursued

Isaac examined the wound, breast with blood

his face

;

his painful scrutiny.

The wound is not fatal!" he said, with an accent of profound regret The knife glanced aside. The hand that struck the blow was tremulous "

"

— with a

little

care, the

maiden might recover, and go

forth in

youth and

loveliness again."

Isaac

was

silent.

His brow became corrugated, his mouth distorted

by an almost grotesque grimace. gerous thoughts.

" Shall I falter

He was now

?

occupied with dark and dan-

When my

footstep

my

threshold of Eden, and the fruit of Immortal Life within

Murder * * * scorn, the law consign me curse my name. Yet, with yet * * * a

knowledge life,

—

to

a single

the world to

would cover

the sacrifice of this one

— now

fluttering

on these

to

lips

on the

And

gray hairs with

the gibbet * * * not a child

thousands, and raise mankind life

my

is

grasp?

life, I

but would

may

give

life,

Only a between me

godlike power.

—only

this,

and Eternal Youth!"

More dark and singular grew the expression of Isaac's face. His downdrawn brows almost concealed the cold, icy glare of his eyes his mouth worked convulsively. ;

He

glanced over the unconscious form, and saw the

bosom swelling

— PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

204

warm

with the

first

began

spread into perfect bloom.

to

throb of returning

life,

"I will get my scalpel," said Isaac— " no time to be lost !"

while the rose-bud on the cheek

It is in

the

Tower.

There

is

Not once did he pause to contemplate the actual dangers of his position. Might not the body of Madeline be traced to his home, and the guilt of Murder be laid upon his gray hairs ? This might occur before an another hour, but the old

" There

is

man

no time

slowly, and the rose-bud

and from the

floor

moment pause to think of it. be lost !" he said, and while the bosom throbbed

did not for a to

bloomed

into a ripe flower, he hurried along the

cell.

Five minutes elapsed ere the sound of his returning step aroused the echoes of the vault. " The day is breaking, the day whose setting sun shall shine upon the

brow of an immortal being!" Thus muttering, the old man came from the gloom toward the altar, whose light suddenly changed from soft red to faint azure

"

—invested

Too much

life,

—

his agitated face

with an unearthly glare.

time has been lost already

it is

but the sacrifice of a

and—"

Brandishing a scalpel or dissecting-knife in his upraised hand, he stood

which the

in the pale blue light again, beside the altar in that, in the

fire,

out, or

even been dimmed by the

The

fire

burned

;

the

long watch of a lifetime, had never once gone

sacred

loss of

one pure ray.

cry of anguish which came from Isaac lips would have pierced a

heart of stone.

There was the rough board, stained with a small pool of blood, but the body of Madeline was gone. The Wizard's uplifted arm fell by his side his face betrayed the deathlike stupor which palsied his reason, and crushed his stern fanaticism ;

into a dull apathy.

He

pressed his hands upon the board, and stained his fingers in the

blood " It

is

a delusion.

footstep but

mine and

old of this vault

it

is

here, but

David the

mine eyesight

With mad

cannot, cannot have been taken

dim.

No

away by human

shrieks, gestures

lost to sight in the

as frantic, the

old

dark corners of the place,

man now

ran to and

—

fro,

tearing his thin

locks, while the light disclosed his horror-stricken features. all

is

Idiot has ever crossed the thresh-

!"

hands

now

—

The body that of

In vain were

wounded was nowhere to be seen. How had she disappeared ? Whose hands had borne her form from the his frantic cries, in vain his earnest search

girl

vault

?

the

body of

the

—

'

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON.

205

Isaac hurried from the place, while the dark passages echoed his frantic cries.

was the work of a moment

It

ridor at the head of the

ascend the stairway and attain

to

The

the ground-floor of the mansion.

lantern shone dimly from the cor-

main stairway.

Without an

instant's delay, Isaac

hastened up the stairway, and reached the door of his daughter's room.

He listened for a moment, pushed it open, and crossed the threshold. The hanging lamp shed a faint light over the room, glimmering on

the

surface of the mirror, and imparting a grotesque outline to the curtains

of the bed.

For

moment

a

his

A

Isaac bent his head and listened.

death-like stillness

he dashed aside the hangings and extended hand through the shadows. That withered hand rested upon a warm

Rushing

reigned.

to the bed,

cheek, and the regular breathing of an untroubled sleeper

man's

the old

"

It

well

is

came gently

to

ear.

My

!

she cannot by any chance

daughter slumbers

"

have

With

the sentence unfinished, the old

man

turned away, and hurried

from the room, closing the door with a sudden crash. Scarcely had the echo of his footsteps died away,

amid the cumbrous hangings, and, by the eyes and

" it

He

fair

does not suspect

How

would burst.

hall,

moment

only a

my

since, I

Ah

absence

shuddered,

I

a face appeared

vein,

My heart

!

large lustrous

were seen. throbs as though

standing in the darkness of the

as,

saw him go down

into the secret cells of the

!"

mansion

And

by a swollen

forehead, darkened

when

faint light, the

the Wizard's daughter, attired in her velvet robe, with the hood

drawn over her

"Had

hair, rose

from the bed, and slowly paced the

moment

floor.

—

would have been discovered O, it is indeed fortunate that I returned in time to fling myself beneath the coverlet, Had I been absent, when his exere my father came to my bedside " tended hand sought to press my cheek The proud girl shuddered, for there was something in the icy manner I

been

a

later, all

!

and lonely

of the old man, which impressed her heart

life

more with awe

than love.

Then,

floor,

she suffered her dark hair to

shoulders, while her

thoughts, only half-uttered,

as she

over her

paced the

float loosely

centred

still

upon her lover

He

"Paul!

will

come

—perchance

could unravel the mystery of that to the floor

?

I

cannot

She shuddered '•

at the

In the darkness

woods that he

to

my

home.

tell, for

fatal

within

room

his face

!

—

—

the hour would that I Did he strike the old man

memory.

I left

the Block-house, and hurried through the silent

And Paul

— where

were here, his hand linked

in

does he wander

mine, his

lip

now

Would

?

upon mine own

!

Then,

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

206

midst of our dream of love,

we would

even

in the

ture,

and read the bright landscape of the coming years, with the eye of

plan the glorious Fu-

Prophecy."

Do

not smile at the passionate extravagance of the proud

reared from infancy in the silence of these forests siast father

—

air, to

his face with the

Wild

mad

—has been

taught,

by

a Voice that

love the mysterious Paul of Ardenheim, to invest idolatry of a boundless passion

in her passion, extravagant in

beautiful,

and not

from the great world

afar

speaks from the

who,

girl,

— alone with her enthu-

her words, she

!

is

yet surpassingly

and might walk among the coronetted dames of a royal court, fairest of them all. was firmly clenched. Her small

abashed amid the noblest or the

feel

One hand

rested

upon her bosom

—

it

The

foot beat the floor with a nervous motion. in black distinctness

serpentine vein started

from her forehead, and, with her hair

floating along

her olive cheeks, she stood in the centre of her chamber, near the

light,

some dread though beautiful Angel. " What means this singular agitation of my father ? He cannot no Yet wherefore seek my chamber at the dead of night? It was but no like a statue of

—

!

!

an impulse of fatherly love.

She crossed to the

the

!

Will he ever return?"

which added a wild charm

voluptuous beauty of her shape, and, standing in the casement, saw

first

The

— Paul

the floor with that proud step,

blush of the coming day, glowing softly over the dark woods.

dawn

rays of the lamp and the flush of the

light at

mingled, and created a

once uncertain and spectral.

" Hast thou beheld

him

?" a low, musical voice, started the Wizard's

daughter from her reveries. It is

the Voice

—"

" Did he enter the Sealed Future in the face ?"

He

Chamber

Had he

?

"I did

—"

forth again ?"

she covered her face with her hands, and trembled

memory of that Face. " Where is he now ?" "I know not Speak to me and answer !

question, yours to reply.

my

Hast thou not spoken

soul with an idle delusion

some good Angel who watches over tell

me

at

he now, It

was

?

room

this

?

at the

brow darkened

— "It

falsely

is

my

turn to

Hast thou not

?

If thou art indeed a voice

the strange course of

once the mystery of that Sealed Chamber

awful countenance is

!" and, with her

a frown, the girl advanced to the centre of the

cheated

have beheld him.'

I

the firmness to look the

entered the Sealed Chamber," exclaimed the Wizard's child.

"Didst thou see him come

by

—"

ejaculated the ambitious girl

!

my

then

Wherefore

that

Where with mine own?"

wherefore the arm extended and the blow

Paul of Ardenheim, whose

life is

a singular thing to see the proud

girl,

linked

from

life,

?

gazing upon the vacant

—— THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON.

207 «

as she thus boldly questioned the

air,

Voice whose source ^as

invisible,

whose purpose incomprehensible There was a pause no answer came. The Wizard's daughter placed her hand upon her forehead, and with ;

her finger pressed the swollen vein. " All will be made known to thee in time !"

was

the response of the

Voice, uttered in a tone of profound sadness. "

Ah

world,

—

a delusion.

it is

am

I

read of madness

—am

I

Yes, reared afar from the

dreaming.

have become the victim of

I

my own

fancies.

I

have oftentimes

not a wretched maniac, an object of pity and

loathing?" "

Thou

Be

patient,

trate the recesses of

This

of idle frenzy, but the child of a glorious

art not the victim

Destiny.

and

last question, uttered in a tone

!"

ever dared to pene-

thy father's most secret cell?"

emotion, startled the beautiful

"Never

Hast thou

will be well.

all

girl,

that

seemed

affected

by sudden

with involuntary surprise.

she replied.

" Hast thou not this very night crossed the sacred threshold of that cell ? Pause and reflect. upon your answer."

"I have never crossed

Do

not speak falsely, for more than

that

life

depends

threshold—" was the firm answer of the

wondering maiden.

The Voice was heard no more. While

the kiss of

day grew rosier on the eastern sky, the

girl

remained

motionless and pale in the centre of her chamber, listening in speechless

no sound awoke the echoes. All was sml and breathless. Her face was very pale, the serpentine vein upon her forehead very dark and distinct, as she turned toward her

intensity for the accents of that Voice, but

couch.-

Meanwhile, the Wizard,

after a fruitless

search through every nook and

recess of his mansion, returned again to the silence his earth-hidden cell.

dark form crouching

"The

Idiot here

!

Advancing

to the altar,

and dim radiance of

he started as he beheld a

at his feet.

Wretch

!

Hast thou dared

to cross this threshold

unbidden ?"

He spurned " Arise, and # girl ?"

While

the

hunchback with his

answer me!

his thin features

foot

Didst thou remove the body of the dead

glowed with rage, he gazed upon the shapeless

form of the Deformed, and once more pressed his foot upon his neck. Black David slowly rose, and with the tangled hair drooping over his features, confronted the old

"

Eh

!

man.

Measter?" he muttered— "Dost touch Black David with thy foot?

—

—

"

""

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

205 Art angry, Measter?

arm

Have

a care

— Black David's brain

Measter must not strike him

strong.

is

The Wizard saw

is

thick

—but

his

in anger."

the angry light of the hunchback's eye, and took him

kindly by the hand

"Pardon, David, pardon

my

life

David

crushed

is

—

it

grieves

am

1

The

sore distressed.

but you cannot comprehend me.

me

that

was angry with you

I

great hope of

Speak

— speak,

to

my

Didst thou remove the body of the dead

woman?

hast hidden

Ha, ha, you merry knave

it,

and

shall be forgotten.

all

thought you would frighten your old master— is

it

me where

Tell

me,

friend.

thou

You

!

so?"

"Dead body?" growled Black David— "I know nothing

of your dead was asleep and thou didst spurn me with 'ee foot Sullenly the Deformed turned away, leaving the old man alone by the

bodies.

altar.

"He

—

—

I

has not taken her

away

—"

muttered Isaac— "It

seen that the poor idiot has had no part in this deed

—

plainly to be

is

And while

the Wizard, standing near the altar, murmured these words, Deformed leaned against one of the pillars of the vault, and placed his

the

hands upon his face

"This hope has not whither.

—

failed

tell

Ah!

His daughter, too I

The body

me.

Isaac cannot

— his

of Madeline

anguish

is

gone

—I

know

too deep to be feigned.

is

that in planning so

much

of evil

to

others,

only bring evil to myself!" Isaac heard the

voice of the Deformed, and, turning from the altar,

exclaimed " Come hither, Black David. Art angry with me ?" He took the hand of the hunchback within his own, and

toward the

"Why

lid

him

light.

man, dost thou cherish malice

saw "Dost weep?

gled hair, he

Again

?

Hah

me that I was angered with thee. A scalding tear fell on his hand

!

What

I tell is this

thee that

it

— a tear —

grieves

!

spoke; and even through the tanhunchback was bathed in moisture.

as he

that the face of the

Art angry with

me

again repeated the old man,

still?"

an expression of compassion softening his rigid lineaments.

But the Deformed dashed of the

The

his

hand

aside,

and glided

into the

shadows

cell.

silence

which ensued was scarcely broken by a sound, while half The pale face of the Wizard looked haggard and spec-

an hour elapsed. tral

by

the light of the altar-flame.

He

stood clasping his hands and

'gazing vacantly toward the light, every lineament impressed with despair.

The Deformed was utterance or for tears,

At

last a

lost in the

was buried

sound disturbed the

shadows

in the

;

his sorrow, too

profound gloom of the

stillness

Its

deep

for

cell.

unearthly emphasis came

through closed doors and thick walls, and broke upon the silence of the

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. cell, like

was

Low,

uttered.

walls

;

it

man, choked by the hand of a foe

the groan of a dying

which pressed the white

seemed

endued with

life

\nd smothered

lips

Wizard

as though the old

The Wizard's daughter approached suffered the light to penetrate the

Very beautiful she looked

name of Paul upon her

lips,

no ray of

ere

it

mansion was suddenly its

heart.

Parting the curtains, she

the bed.

her robe of velvet and

With

stream freely over her bosom.

to

a hand

gloom which hung over her couch.

as she laid aside

and suffered the dark hair

;

life,

sound pierced the thick

though he heard the throbbings of

as

curtains, so .that

the last cry of

muttering, that

indistinct

to the

;

209

fur,

the

she sank upon the pillow, drawing close the light

might break the gloom of the sacred

retreat.

Soon she resigned herself to slumber but in her slumber there came dream of a shadowy path, leading far down into the nooks of a summer wood. There were threads of sunshine quivering over the sod flowers ;

a

;

peeped from the vines that trees,

and

birds,

among the branches the murmur woven together, fell on her senses like

trailed

and streams,

blessing of good

angels.

;

But suddenly* from

bling from the vines, overarched her

the

flowers which, trem-

way with bloom and

jected the head and fangs of a beautiful serpent.

of the

She

fragrance, pro-

started

away with

drew her near and nearer to the snake, whose skin of bright green was varied by drops of gojd. A dreamy music issued from its expanded jaws there was a strange fascination in horror, but an inexplicable fascination

;

its

eyes.

Unable

to

advance or recede, she stood spell-bound, when the

serpent sprang from the leaves, and buried

saw

its

fangs in her bosom.

She

the blood, she felt the coil of the snake about her neck, and

The dream was pillow, with her

gone, but in

its

felt

move;

the

a hand

upon

Her blood grew

her breast, and heard the sound of deep-drawn breath.

cold; she could not speak or

Buried in the

place, a terrible reality.

couch shrouded by the hangings, she

overwhelming

terror held her

dumb.

The hand was for air, as

there

— she

heard the deep-drawn breath

though the chamber was

filled

— and

panted*

with the atmosphere of pesti-

lence.

She would have given the world for the power to move or speak; there was something fearful in the darkness which encompassed her, in the cold hand which pressed her bosom,

in

keard distinctly through the stillness.

deep-drawn breath which was Her senses were deadened by a

the

sudden stupor, which, while

it left her without speech or motion, also left her painfully conscious of the cold hand laid upon her breast. * * * *

By

a violent effort, she

dark in her chamber. the light of the

dashed aside the curtains of her bed

The

curtains, closed over the

—

all was window, shut out

dawning day; the hanging lamp was extinguished. 14

As

—" PAUL ARDENHEIM;

210

she rose in the couch, the

OR,

hand which had rested upon her bosom,

she was nerved by despair and terror

pressed her neck

— with

one

frenzied motion, she sprang from the bed.

Standing thus in the shadows of her chamber, her form, only covered, quivering with cold, she gazed toward the bed,

were but

faintly distinguishable,

sound of deep-drawn breath.

and listened

She heard

it

that

for

once more

whose

half-

outlines

almost inaudible

—

seemed

it

like

the gasping of a death-stricken man.

Then

her terror found utterance in a shriek which pierced every nook

and chamber of the old mansion.

Trembling

in the centre of the

toward the window, the

to move toward the bed or dawn growing stronger every mo-

room, afraid

light of the

ment, she looked fixedly toward the bed.

Was

it

a fancy

Did she

?

deed behold a white arm extended from the shadows of of the bed

There came

—

it

a light, a red light,

in-

?

somewhat obscured by heavy smoke,

flashed from the opened door, and disclosed that half-naked form, the

face unnaturally pale

The maiden

and the eyes bright with preternatural

fear.

turned toward the door, and by the sudden light beheld the

pale visage of her father, glowing in every line with singular triumph.

Over

his shoulder appeared the face of the

Deformed, the eyes shining

with supernatural lustre from the shadows of the matted hair.

And

then, turning her gaze from the door, as she beheld the eyes of

her father an^l the Deformed enchained by

Maiden beheld spectre

—not

some

object near her, the

the image of Paul Ardenheim, nor yet

summoned by blasphemous

rites

some hideous

from the shadows of the Other

World. It

was a naked form, with arms folded over

the blood-stained breast,

with brown hair waving freely, in glossy curls, over the white shoulders;

eyes uplifted, wet with a voice broken

" Save It

me

!

by

tears,

gazed

in the face of the

Wizard's

child,

the very intensity of fear, thrilled on the silence

Save

was Madeline,

me the

For I have no friend, no hope but Orphan Girl of Wissahikon. !

END OF BOOK

FIRST.

in

you

—

and

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON.

211

EPISODE. FROM JANUARY, 1775, TO JUNE, 1777.

Two

The Manuscripts from which

years pass away.

this history is

taken have not a word to say in regard to the period that elapsed from the

A shadow rests first of January, 1775, until some time in June, 1777. upon the history of the Wissahikon during that period a shadow unbroken by a solitary ray. Not a word of the fate of Paul, nor of the Wizard's child, nor of Madeline, the orphan girl,— there is silence and night upon the Wissahikon, while these years pass away.

—

The Manuscript speaks 1774

but after that night

;

there

is

in full

—so

a blank until June, 1777.

are to take

From

and

terrible details of the last night of

crowded with incident and

up again the broken thread of our the

but in relation to the American Continent

Two

years and six months

man

!

more

— who

is

over,

we

shall dare write

Wissahikon and

its

people,

traffic

freezes

?

— In times of peace, when

into a dull torpor, or only excites the soul

into a feverish lust for gold, this space of time

event

—

narrative.

the 1st of January, 1775, to June, 1777,

the history of that time, not in regard to

every noble pulsation of

fate

therefore in June, 1777, that

It is

might pass, without one

glorious than a rise in the price of dry-goods, or one thought

higher than the cobwebs of the counting-house.

was no time for mere men of It was the time of men epoch of deeds inspired by God. But

this

politicians.

When

traffic,

nor was

it

an age for puny

the age of noble thoughts

;

the year 1775 began, a Continent lay trembling in suspense,

happiness or

The

;

its

ruin hanging

destiny of three

upon

the changes of a

millions, the

fate

crowned

the

its

Idiot's health.

of hundreds of millions, yet

unborn, depended upon the health of an Idiot.

It

looks absurd, but

it

is true.

Behold him, ranging the

half-lighted corridor of

yonder palace,

receding forehead impressed with the curse which hangs his

upon

his

his race,

eye glassy and vacant, his nether-lip trembling in a meaningless

—

;

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

212

There

smile.

beautiful

are

on those

pictures

walls

lofty

;

the light

streams through windows which are shadowed by curtains of silk and gold

before and behind the wandering Idiot are ranges of lofty chambers,

;

furnished with every thing that can please a royal eye, or

wake

a royal

soul from the torpor of satiety into one quick pulse of sensation.

There

Royalty

is

the sunshine

very atmosphere

in the

and the Idiot wandering from room

King of England

— King of

the fate of America, and

crowned

Is the

army

Idiot cheerful to-day

America

he gloomy

Is

room, from corridor

to

Then

?

developed

reason

by

encircled

hurried over the waters, to crush the three

is

and slavery.

the last prescription of the royal physician failed

to

and

to

phantoms

woe to Ireland commands of this poor

America

to the

!

with his crown, than the

hurry

forms

grotesque

in

itself

a throng of hideous

Then woe obedience

the Arbiter of

a few guineas are given

creeping over the rich carpet at his

reptiles

;

;

to corridor, is

!

quicken his blood, and clear the fog of his brain

to

his

in

kennels near his palace gates, and an

in the

into silence

Has

?

World

the eighth part of the

of licensed cut-throats

millions of

Royalty glares upon him

three millions of people

its

who clamor

beggars

to the

;

broods in the silence of those great and shadowy rooms

it

;

feet,

Has the curse of Does he see foul or behold himself

?

woe

!

?

?

to

wretch,

Man

vilest leper of St. Giles

For at once, in more miserable

!

who

is

with his rags, armies

crushing into dust, into blood, the hopes of millions of

fro,

mankind.

The

Ministers of State are

chamber fall

;

near the door of the Idiot's

listening

Upon

they are awaiting for his commands.

from his

lips,

hangs the

the words

which

of England, Ireland, Scotland, America;

fate

the fate of one-eighth of the entire globe.

For he from age

is

to

King

King.

Pursued by the curse which has descended

!

age upon his race

frightened in his royal chambers

;

by

the

phantoms of a maniac's frenzy afraid of the motes that float in the sun and the drivelling of afraid of the shadow on the wall, he is yet a King his Idiot's lip is law and fate to some hundred millions of souls. ;

;

Beautiful picture of the divine right of Kings

These

fits

possess the Monarch, are

privacy

knOwn only

;

Yet he

is

!

of frenzy, this torpor of idiotic vacancy,

to

known only some nine or

God human

King, by Grace of

and murder, and

maim

to the

the

few

who

which by turns

are admitted to his

ten persons in a hundred millions.

too,

commissioned by Heaven

race, to convert

to tax,

whole nations

into

sepulchres, and drain the life-blood from a million hearts.

And lime In

yet they

in the all

tell

us that there

is

no beauty

atmosphere inhaled by Kings

the pages of history, there is no picture

compare with

this solitary

Fact:

in Royalty, nothing sub-

!

which

for a

moment

will

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON.

213

In 1775, George, the grandson of George the Second,

England

that

;

to

is

say,

King of England, Scotland,

was King of

Ireland, America,

He was thirty-eight years of age. He was subject to now threatened with madness, now moments of unutterable gloom torpid with blank idiocy. Of this fact, his subjects knew nothing if a In vague rumor crept abroad, it was crushed at once, as a blasphemy. and India.

;

;

lucid intervals, that is to say, ivhen idiocy quickened for thought, or

an

instant into

madness became for a moment calm, he governed

the eighth

part of the world, and decided the fate of the millions who then existed, and stamped his impress upon the fate of hundreds of millions yet unborn. Is

it

not a beautiful thought

Summon

?

crowd into one page the accumuyou have nothing half so horan Idiot, whose idiocy is unknown to the

the horrors of history

all

lated crimes of a

;

thousand years, and

rible as this solitary fact

world, should decide, of immortal souls

— that

by the

still

drivellings of his idiocy, the fate of millions

souls born of God,

;

as precious in the sight of

Heaven

redeemed by Christ

as the soul of

every one

;

any King

that ever

lived.

O

for a high mass,

chanted by devils, amid the carnage of a

honor of the Divine Right of Kings

in

was

It

Idiot

this

King who,

1775, held in his hand

in

royal pen, agitated by the tremors of

At

command,

his

—under

minute

the

America.

fate of

the leper of the jail and the cut-throat of St. Giles,

the scarlet uniform, took

into all the

lunacy— the

wretch of the factory, and the peasant of the

the starved

assumed

battle-field,

!

details of

Divine Right of the King

murder, and sent over the ocean

among

field

—

all

sword and bayonet, were disciplined

the valleys of the

New

to assert the

World.

Because the people of the New World .refused to pay a ? would not do obeisance to the petty ministers who encircled the petty King? No. This does not comprise the whole truth of the con-

Wherefore

tax, or

test.

It

was, in a word, because King George of England wished to bind

the land of the cial all

New World

domain, subject

Kings

—

Idiots or

The people

to

to his

crown, as his property, his

every impulse of his

Murderers

will,

— who might come

and after

own

espe-

to the caprices

of

him.

of America did not recognise with any favor this idea of the

King. Therefore, roughly clad in the garb of farmer and mechanic, they met the vassals of the King, on a pleasant day in April, 1775, and shot

them

from the shelter of the hedge by the roadside, and confronted them in the centre of the highway, opposing their rude fowling-pieces to the glittering arms of the royal soldiers.

The day was April 19th, and the place was Lexington. The blood, smoking on the roadside and in the fields spoke

to the hearts of millions,

and roused a people

of Lexington,

into arms.

;.

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

214

was on the 10th of May, 1775,

It

band of farmers and mechanics,

that a

with here and there a lawyer or a rich man, assembled in Philadelphia,

and were known

This congress, with pro-

as the Continental Congress.

fessions of love for the King, coupled scorn for his Ministers, and resist-

ance

They were

to his laws.

yet in that twilight which descends upon

the souls of men, just before the daybreak of freedom.

by

ties

Joined

to

England

of ancestry, by the language of Shakspeare and Milton, by English

customs and English laws, they trembled

at the idea

They were afraid of independence. And while the Congress of the New World was came

phia, there

King — in one of

to

of a separate destiny.

in session in Philadel-

Boston another British Army, sent by the British

his lucid intervals perchance

gallant soldiers, Clinton,

— and with

Burgoyne and Howe.

army were

this

This was on the 25th

May, 1775.

of

moving on the were boats upon the waves, and the sub-

But, on a clear starry night in June, there were shadows

.

hill

and along the shore

there

;

dued tread of armed men broke through the all at

Then

stillness.

there was,

;—

once, the peal of musquetry mingled with the hurrah of conflict

were smoke-clouds rolling into the sky, like shrouds for the dead there was fighting on the hill-top, where peasants, behind a bank of there was a mud, levelled whole lines of splendid soldiers into dust there

—

;

brave young man, named Warren,

who

—

grappled the bayonet that stabbed

him, and poured forth his blood upon the grass as a holy oblation unto freedom.

The British were driven back, defeated and mocked by a peasant army, encamped near Boston, on the heights of Bunker Hill. That word, Bunker Hill, coupled with the name of Warren, spoke like the voice of

God

to the

Continental Congress and to the people of the '

Thirteen Provinces.

Blood had been shed

was no time

:

;

Lexington found an echo in Bunker Hill

for hesitation

;

;

there

no thought of submission.

The Congress determined to raise an army. Where should a leader ? The British King had generals of renown, who were skilled

found

shedding blood, perfect in the

art of leading

uniformed slaves

But where should the Continental Congress

Murder.

their peasant

army

to

be in

deeds of

find a leader for

1

There was no time for hesitation, It was a question of awful moment. however, and the eyes of the farmers and mechanics, the rich men and the lawyers, who composed the Continental Congress, were turned

He was

towards one of their number.

His stature was commanding a

man

to

;

a

man

of forty-three years of age.

his face full of energy

and

be remarked in a crowd of ten thousand.

he speak, but his words were concise and bodied an idea, and overwhelmed with

to

its

the point truth

fire.

Not

He was often

did

— every word em-

the hearts of all

who

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. This man, plainly

listened.

215

attired in the garb of a planter,

He

as the Leader of the Continental armies.

was chosen

sat listening to a speech,

which rung in words of fire from the lips of bold John Adams, and the word of the speech was his own name. Covered with blushes, the but soon the people of Thirteen Planter fled from the Hall of Congress last

;

Provinces recognized their champion Planter, and

King George

name

for the first time, the

Then began

New

World, and

the person of this

in

Virginian

one of his lucid intervals

in

—heard,

of George Washington.

epoch of

the

Washington, secluded the

—may be

laid his

The young Commander map of

illustrious deeds.

near Cambridge, surveyed the

in his tent

sword upon

it,

the hilt resting

upon Labra-

dor, while the point touched Patagonia, thus symbolizing the great

of his soul

— the possession of the

purpose

Continent of freemen.

From this camp near Cambridge went, one autumn day, a man who was bold enough to think of the conquest of Canada. He was followed by eleven hundred men. He was determined to traverse three hundred miles of untrodden wilderness with this

ness

ice,

;

snow, trackless ravines, impetuous

and nights of hopeless extremity

—

all

army, and then attack the

little

Gibraltar of America, the rock of Quebec.

He

did traverse the wilder-

torrents,

days of starvation,

these he dared, he and his band of

iron men.

On r the

last night of

1775, he stood on the rock of Quebec, under a

leaden sky, his uniform whitened by the fast-falling snow. the hand a youthful soldier,

bold outlines of his to

meet

in

Quebec

own

whose handsome

visage.

They

face

took

by the

plighted faith together; they swore

On the rock which had borne, Montcalm and Wolfe, the little army

in victory or in death.

not fifteen years before, the corses of

of Continentals prepared to attack and possess Quebec.

was yet

the daybreak

faint

sullenly under rocks of ice,

When

He

was contrasted with

day was

and dark, while the

was whitened by

St.

This was when

Lawrence, heaving

the falling snow.

and the sun shone vividly over the City and rock, covered by frozen snow, there was a mangled body amid five other the

bright,

on Cape Diamond.

corses

It

was

the

wreck of

the youthful soldier,

Richard Montgomery.

There were heaps of dead by the upon the barriers

There was the as he

arm

;

corses and

St.

wounded

Charles

The

attack

dismal stains of blood

soldier of the wilderness, covered with

sank upon the frozen snow, fighting on,

stiffened.

;

dark streets of Quebec.

in the

wounds, and

until his sight

fighting

was dim,

his

His name was Benedict Arnold.

was

glorious, though unsuccesful

possess the town, but they

won

Lexington they added Quebec.

another name.

These names

;

the Americans did not

To Bunker

Hill

and

are greater than armies in

a good cause.

And

all

the while, as the

hand and brain of Washington gave impulse

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

216

to the Continental armies, as battle after battle

added

the

to

George's victims, and the smoke of the conflict ascended

Americans were

the souls of the dead, the

to

fighting, not for

but for a change in the British Ministry.

They were

list

of King

heaven, with

Independence,

still

afraid of that

word, Independence.

While Arnold

fell

covered with wounds, and Montgomery lay a crushed

and bloody image upon the rock of Quebec, there was a another part of the Continent.

was a

battle fighting in

fearful battle.

It

was not a

with rnusquet and cannon, or with scalping-knife and toma-

battle fought

hawk

It

men called up on gory fields, opposed to each upon each other like rabid beasts, in this contest. was a battle fought by one man, his only weapons a quill,

nor were armies of

;

other's throats, and set

No

It

!

some sheets of paper, and a bottle of ink. While Arnold was bleeding in Quebec, garret in

this

man was

sitting

in

a

Philadelphia, surveying certain loose sheets of paper, which

were crowded with the intense workings of his brain for the last six months. From June until December, he had been engaged in this battle; that

is to

say, he had been

embodying upon those loose sheets of paper,

an idea which would work more judgment, more ruin for King George, than

all

the armies of the world.

While the scripts, and,

groan of Montgomery arose to

last

of Quebec, this

man

in the Philadelphia garret

God from

the dark rock

gazed upon his manu-

with a brightening eye, beheld the idea which was

to

con-

quer King George embodied in a single word.

Soon

the

news of Quebec came to Philadelphia, and soon the manuunknown, poured into the alembic of the printing-press, ap-

scripts of the

peared in the shape of a Book.

The name

of that

Book was

Ticonderoga, Lexington, Quebec,

in

the

a Battle. To Bunker Hill, American people now added the

itself

name of the book, " Common Sense." The Idea of that book entered Congress, and spoke to the hearts of the To Jefferson, to great men there, and awed the little men into silence. Adams, to Franklin, to Sherman, and to all who were like them, the idea spoke

in the

still

small voice of a Truth, armed with the omnipotence

of God.

At

last the

Idea fought

embodied forever

On

a calm

in the

summer

its

battle in the hall of

Congress, and

it

became

word, Independence. evening, the 9th of July, 1776, the Continental

encamped near New York, were informed by American Congress had declared these Colonies

troops

their General, that

the

to

be Free and In-

dependent States.

The names grew on

the

scroll

of American glory.

Another name,

enshrining a thought even as body does a soul, was added to Lexington,

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. Bunker

Hill,

The King

Common

Quebec,

Sense.

It

was

name

a

names, and the embodiment of

sult of all the other

all

217 that

was

the re-

—Independence.

of England, in one of his lucid intervals, heard of this word,

New World, and chorused by Pharaoh of a more ancient kingdom,

proclaimed from the Council Hall of the the battle-cries of Armies.

Even

as

grew more blind and drunk with fury, as the hour of God's judgments came near and nearer, so King George vented his royal rage in new mea-

new

sures, It

the

armies,

new

assassinations.

was toward the close of 1776, that the darkest cloud gathered over " Independence" seemed doomed to vanish in Idea of a Nation.

There was ice upon the Delaware, near Trenton. Did one compact mass, and spread a firm pathway from Then the cause of the New World was lost. Upon so shore to shore ? slight a fact hung the destiny of Washington and the cause. For, on the eastern shore of the river, was the British Army, strong in mists of blood.

this ice freeze into

arms, in discipline, very comfortable, with well-spread

tables

and

fine

apparel.

On

the western shore, with a

mob

of half-clad men, was Washington,

with scarce a place in which to lay his head, scarce a roof

To

starving soldiers.

about his camp, was added a sadder and darker phantom

Upon

to shelter his

nakedness and starvation, hovering like spectres

— Treason.

the freezing of the Delaware, therefore, depended the fate of

The

Washington and the cause.

river once frozen

these Britons and Hessians, cozily

encamped

from shore

to shore,

on

in Trenton, will cross

and make an easy prey of the starving mob who skulk along the

the ice,

western

hills.

There was a God

in

Heaven,

at this

dark hour, and Washington did not

His men suffering from hunger and cold, Treason scowling upon his camp, Congress almost hopeless of the cause, Washington did

despair.

He even wished to add another name Quebec, Common £>ense, Independence.

not despair. ington,

some time

Therefore, his starving their guns,

men

in the dark

in boats.

and keep

guns and powder.

He

to

Bunker

Hill,

Lex-

hours of Christmas Night, he placed

besought them to look to the priming of

powder dry. Those who were

That

their

is,

destitute

such of them as had of powder and -guns,

almost destitute of rags, took such arms as they could find

— perchance

a

broken sword, maybe a rusted bayonet.

While the British and the Hessians were combating legions of turkeys, parallelograms of roast beef, and hogsheads of ale,

drunken Christmas in Trenton starving side

mob.

Bunker

—Ere

the

—Washington

dawn was

Hill, Lexington,

bright,

Quebec,

Common

Trenton And thus, enlivened now and then by

— cozily keeping

their

came upon them with another name was written

his

be-

Sense and Independence.

!

a sudden glare, the dreary Night

213

PAUL ARDENHEIM;

,

The day was

of Revolution passed on.

many

still

OR,'

to brighten at last, but there

were

dark hours between Washington and the light of perfect

freedom. It is

How

June, 1777.

We may

not enter into

stands the cause of freedom

all

compress some events of the Future into pictures.

som

— what says

autumn and

the

now?

the details of the history of our land

June

is

now

;

let

us

in blos-

the winter, of the cause of freedom

?

— Gaze along this meadow, embosomed in the foliage of a lovely valley, gemmed

with orchards, and sparkling with a stream of clear cold water. sunshine upon the tops of the trees, and shadow

There

is

From

clusters of forest trees, gray stone walls are visible

peaceful homes, protected it

by

utterable peace

—and

mock

And

soul of quiet

And

crimson. ripened into

Is

—peace—un-

the petty greatness of wealth, the swelling ?

its

own

There will be cold faces in the the grass will be wet with a bloody rain the stream will be, ere the blossoms on yonder trees have

soon be rich in graves.

light of a setting

For it There

to the

peaceful valley, secluded from the world, shut up in

this

loveliness, will

around.

the solitude of this world-hidden valley.

not one of those scenes which speak

vanity of ambition, to scorn

all

the walls of

;

sun this

;

;

fruit.

Brandywine.

is

the valley of the

is

a house of dark gray stone, standing in a sort of rural majesty,

at the eastern extremity of a

smooth green lawn.

To

the north and to

the south, from this mansion, spread the tenements of a quiet town,

whose

gables peep from gardens and orchard trees.

the stone is

mansion

lingers the last ray of the

Upon

the roof of

June sun, and not

a breeze

there to shake the white blossoms from the boughs, or stir into motion

the

smooth verdure of the lawn.

— Ere

these trees are touched

rainbows of autumn, there

will

by

winter, yes, as they are clad in the

be some hundreds of dead bodies stretched

in horrible confusion over this lawn, in all the grotesque shapes of

sudden

and violent death.

For the mansion mantown.

is

Chew's House, and

the village

is

called

Ger-

Behind these pictures of the pleasant valley of Brandywine, and town of Germantown, I see a range of snow-clad hills, crowned with

the

huts, and

crowded with half-naked and famine-stricken men.

written there

—

to be soothed

We

it

by

A name

is

speaks of suffering that has no tongue, of anguish only tears of blood

—

for that

will follow the thread of this

name

is

Valley Forge.

singular history of the olden time,

— of the Wizard's

and while we learn the fate of Paul —-we may perchance behold some

child

—of Madeline

traces of the fight of

some tokens of Germantown, and come

at last to the

Brandywine,

huts and

snow

!

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON.

We

of Valley Forge.

§19

may, perchance, converse with Washington, and

hand the Boy-General, Gilbert La Fayette. take by But neither the great facts, nor the great names of general history, Let shall win us from the individual narrative of the Wissahikon people. the

us translate the dark cyphers of the ancient record— let us give voice and

speech

to the

bronzed

face,

shadowed by dark

spiritual

manhood

Even now I behold that by eyes, whose strange Even now I see the pure

?

hair, lighted

awes and wins the hearts of men.

lustre

of

dim Chronicle of old. of Ardenheim again

we behold Paul

Shall

of that virgin soul battling with the physical realities

with the base and gross temptations of the world.

life,

Shall the spirit of the

blemish or scar

Dreamer come

forth

from the ordeal, without

?

But even as we ask the question, Paul is a perjured and dishonored Man, for an overwhelming thought crowds upon our souls. The Sealed Chamber, and the secret, which drove Paul out into the world, a scorner of his father's gray hairs, with the stain of Perjury upon his soul A secret armed with supernatural power, darkened by mystery, as impenetrable as the blackness which rests upon the World beyond the

Grave

!

We may

enter the old Monastery once again.

we may

We may read

the

name

Gathering courage for our task,

of the Deliverer concealed in the Urn.

even confront that door whose dark panels are traced with the

sign of the Cross.

And

Sealed Chamber.

Shall

Shall the Deformed,

then but a step between us and the Secret of the

we look upon that fatal mystery ? now known as Black David, now as

the Invisible,

ever rush before our path again, like a lurid cloud before the light of a

summer day

?

Winding among those quiet shades, and by those still waters of the Wissahikon, shall we chance upon a new-made grave, and find upon a tombstone the name of Madeline

rustic

Jovial Peter

ever talk with thee again, or

draughts to Christmas

Or

?

Dormer, with beard of snow and cheeks of flame,

Eve

sit

shall

we

beside thy broad hearth and quaff deep

?

the Wizard's child, so queenly in her bearing, so like a spirit in her

starry loveliness, with her dark eyes fired

serpentine vein swelling like a prophecy

behold the beautiful Atheist again

The Wizard

himself,

a

by ambition and upon her brow

love, with the

— shall we

ever

?

haggard

old

man — old

before

and withered by fanaticism into premature decay— shall

his

we

time,

converse

with him once more, and learn the result of his life-long meditation? Is

his

dream of Immortal Life upon earth only a dream

?

or shall he

appear before us, clad in the vigor of young manhood, irresistible with the

power of boundless wealth.

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

22fl

Then another face comes faintly to our view; the face of the aged man, who, companioned only-by his children, waited in the Block : house of Wissahikon, not for the secret of immortal life on earth, or for the power of unbounded wealth, but for the coming of the Kingdom of the We have seen him reel beneath the blow of his son we have seen that son rush forth from the Monastery, with the stamp of Fate upon

Lord.

;

Does

his forehead.

the old

man

yet survive

?

Treading gently through the dim corridors of the Block-house, shall

we once more meet

the vision of that gentle face, with blue eyes and long,

flowing, golden hair

?

We may

behold the Secret Brotherhood again, assembled in mysteri-

ous council, and bound

A

repetition.

to blind

strange

obedience by oaths too blasphemous for

with

Brotherhood,

Lodge

rising

Degree above Degree,— an inexplicable complication of

by One Man. Deformed, or

That

These questions

new Epoch

solitary ruler, either Gilbert the

yet, perchance,

in

our

start to

our history

some man

;

lips, as

these,

altogether

we

stand

new

upon

into

Lodge,

castes, controlled

huntsman, or the to

our

sigljt.

the threshold of a

and a thousand others,

full

of the same

pervading interest and mystery.

Let us translate the dusk cyphers of the ancient record voice and speech to the

dim Chronicle of

old.

— let us give

I'

BOOK THE SECOND

THE

SEC RET OF THE

SEALED CHAMBER.

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON.

223

9

CHAPTER

FIRST.

AFTER TWO YEARS.

Under an

arbor fresh with

virtes,

and fragrant with flowers, sat Peter

Dorfner, his rotund form resting in a stout oaken chair.

was a very

It

pleasant thing to note the contrast between his red cheeks and white beard, and the deep green of the leaves, the varied tints of the flowers.

Before him was placed a table of unpainted oak, on which sundry sus-

And

picious bottles stood like the sentinels of the scene.

half-closing his

eyes, with his limbs resting on a bench, old Peter resigned himself to the

calm delights of rum and tobacco.

was

It

a pleasant arbor, standing at one end of the garden, near the

windows looked summer sun.

farm-house, whose closed doors and

beneath the cheerful light of the It

must be confessed,

that old Peter

man peaceful murmur of the

that can render a

the unceasing

was surrounded by

all

the delights

with himself and the world.

Lulled by

who sung new-mown hay

among

bees,

flowers, with the fragrance of fields,

black and desolate

Peter Dorfner, with his red cheeks and

their songs

the

stealing gently over the

snowy

beard, his capacious

form spreading lazily in the oaken chair, looked altogether like a picture

some corpulent satyr of Grecian story, clad in brown cloth, with a pipe mouth, and a bottle of rum near its hand. Or, in case this comparison should seem unjust, we might compare him to some Hermit of the middle ages, who disgusted with the vanity of the world, had retired to some secluded forest, and sworn a solemn oath, to devote himself forever of

in its

and sleep, those cardinal duties of the monks of old.

to fatness

Beyond green

field

the garden,

amid whose plants and flowers the arbor

rose, a

smiled in the June sunbeams, and stretched to the south and

west in gentle undulations, until

it

was bounded by

the

Strong men, with arms bare and scythe in hand, toiled scattering swarths of fragrant

were grouped

in the shade,

hay

summer woods. among the grass,

as they hurried along.

on the verge of the wood

and matronly cows, snuffing the scent of the

;

Tired

cattle

aldermanic oxen

new-mown hay, from which known in grave an-

they were separated by that kind of rural architecture, nals as "

Worm

Fence."

plied to the scythe,

Now

and then, the sound of the whetstone ap-

came merrily over

of cattle, and the subdued

murmur

the field, mingled with the lowing

of the hidden stream.

—

"

—

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

224

Summer was upon There was

white bosoms

was

the scene, in

a serene sky,

the sun, and floated

to

drowsy fragrance

a

the freshness and beauty of June.

all

only varied by passing clouds,

in the

very

air,

who

turned their

slowly over the woods.

There

a fulness of intoxicating odours;

and the bees among the flowers, the lowing

cattle

grouped

in the

shadows,

the clang of the scythe, and the indistinct sound of the wood-hidden Wis-

sahikon, formed the music of the scene, a very lulling music altogether, full

summer and voluptuous

of

as June.

There were green

But the old farm-house looked sad and deserted. vines trailing about

its

steep roof, and flinging their leaves, their flowers,

from the very point of the high gable

;

\he chesnut tree was glorious with

verdure, but the doors of the farm-house, the closed shutters, gave

it

a

lonely and desolate appearance.

Secluded

arbor, his only

in the

companions the pipe and the

bottles,

Peter Dorfner took his ease, and winked sleepily at care, as though there

was never

Two

a thing like trouble in the world. 1

years have passed since

we beheld him

last,

two years

of in-

full

and incident, and the face of Peter discloses more wrinkles about

terest

the eyes,

Brown

more

fatness in the cheeks, a sublirner rotundity about the form.

waistcoat loosened, hose

ungartered, and cravat thrown

aside,

Peter languidly, smoked his pipe, and seemed hesitating for a moment, ere

he entered the domains of that ancient empire,

known

to

philosophers and

Land of Nod. Rousing himself for a moment, he exclaimed, in a sleepy tone, "Sam Where are you, you blind devil ?" I say In answer to this bland inquiry, a voice was heard "I'se here, Massa. I is," and, starting from a nook of the arbor overshadowed by foliage, the blind Negro appeared in the light, his sightless poets as the

!

eyeballs rolling in their sockets. " Fill

my

The good

and

glass

fix

my

pipe, or

Peter Dorfner was

fast

— or — asleep.

With

his head resting on

one shoulder, and his gouty hands placed on his paunch, he had dropped dreams.

into the land of

ness, with pipes

between

Corpulent dreams, no doubt, blooming their lips,

and beakers of rum-punch

in fatin their

hands.

Black Sam, dressed

in a suit of coarse

gray homespun, stood behind

his master's chair, listening with great earnestness, while his forehead

became corrugated with distorted in a grin,

innumerable

wrinkles,

his

thick

lips

were

and his eyeballs rolled unceasingly in their sockets.

—

Massa?" he whispered then listened for a moment by gum," he added, in a tone that was scarcely audible. Then, raising his black hands, seamed with scars and knotted in the joints, above the white hairs of the sleeping old man, Black Sam stood

"Are yo'

"He am

for

a

'sleep,

'sleep,

moment

with his sightless eyeballs

lifted

toward Heaven.

An

^

——

"

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. expression as sudden as

it

was

came over

frightful

his face

by

black as soot, contrasted with the hair, which, frosted 1

white wool, was in truth most horrible

to

225 ;

Clenching

behold.

that visage,

age, resembled his knotted

negro uttered certain words, not in broken English, but in

fingers, the

some unknown tongue, perchance

the language of his clime and race.

The good Peter Dorfner snored which, had

it

taken a form to

slumber

in his

;

a substantial snore,

might certainly have appeared

itself,

in the

shape of a full-blown poppy, overcome with liquor and tired for want of In his corpulent slumber, lulled by obese dreams, with pipes in

sleep.

and mugs of rum in their hands, the convivial Peter did not for moment chance to think of the black visage which scowled above him,

their lips

a

while lips distorted by rage muttered vengeance upon his head. "

Punch

sleep,

—don't

know how

with a chuckle that seemed choked

his chest to his lips.

—-a

make punch

to

sp^ce of

"

lemon peel

Some

first-rate

——— a

?" Peter

to death,

whiskey

—

murmured

while on

Irish, if

its

in

his

way from

you can

get

it

a

Peter ended the injunction with a snore, while the negro cautiously placed one hand upon the breast of the sleeping man, and with the other

brandished a

common

Again those words

sharpened

table-knife, in

the

unknown

to a point.

tongue,

accompanied by the

hideous cortortion,' and then the Negro muttered in broken English " For sixteen seventeen year, dis nigga watch his time. Sometime

—

Sometime come

ho tink he put pisen in yo' drink. yo' in yo'

How

dam

sleep.

Now

he no

bed an' choke

brawny left hand touched the breast of the slumbering mark the point of the intended blow, while the knife,

lightly that

man, as

if

to

clenched in the uplifted right hand, shone with the old

to yo'

fail !"

man's head

Certainly the negro

and reason.

its

sharpened point over

!

was

a maniac

;

a poor wretch, deprived of sight

Else wherefore should he wish

who had fed him at his table, and given him many years ? Perchance some memory of years before, nerved the negro's

man had been stolen from Africa, member of the white race. The knife glittered faintly in

to

to

stab the

good old

man

drink of his cup, for so

a petty slight, received long

may have been that the b/ind and cherished a mad resentment against arm

;

the

negro's

it

every

foliage of the arbor,

"

Sam

little

kin feel yo' heart, ole boy

—

by the work of murder.

grasp, as, hidden

he silently prepared himself

for his

dere's for de white

woman

and de

chile— dere—

The

knife descended, urged

by an arm

that

was nerved by madness

perchance by revenge.

"Wait

a minute,

my dark

friend,

and you

may

kill

him

at

your leisure,"

said a bland voice.

The negro

could not see, but he

felt that

15

a third person

was present

at

'

—

"

226

1

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

.

this

scene; he was seized with an ague-like tremor; the knife

his

hand.

fell from sank on the gravel which formed the floor of the arbor, and, in a whispering tone, begged for mercy.

"By

He

gum,

nigga no 'tend to hurt Massa Dorfen one

dis

Dat am trut, so it am "Will you be still,

Or

labaloo?

shall

I

— Massa! my

Massa!

Don't hurt ole

hair!

little

Sam —

Will you stop your cursed hul

dear charcoal?

just put a pistol to

your head, and blow you

into

several pieces?"

The poor the cold

tered faintly

The

wretch, cowering on the gravel, heard the bland voice,

muzzle of the

— " Kill de I

say

yourself, or

bottle in

!

I'll

felt

pressing against his temple, and then mut-

nigga, but don't

unknown was heard

voice of the

" Dorfner, stir

pistol

Hello, man,

is this

wake de

old

boy!"

again, rising into a jovial shout

the

way you

treat

your friends

drink your liquor and stick the neck of an empty

your yawning jaws.

Dorfner,

I

say!"

Started by the clamor, Peter unclosed his eyes, and looked around with

the peculiarly vacant glance of a corpulent gentleman aroused* from a

pleasant slumber.

"Good morning, friend," he slowly said have we here ?"

—"Why,

what

in

the d

—

Peter removed his feet from the table, started erect in his chair, and

looked in the face of the intruder with an expression of ludicrous surprise.

was

It

gentleman

a very grave, sober-looking

with his back

to the

who

stood before him,

afternoon sun, and his head and shoulders relieved

A

very

grave, sedate personage, indeed, dressed in black cloth from head to

foot,

by

a glimpse of the blue sky, smiling

with cravat and

beyond the

ruffles of inexpressible whiteness,

distant woods.

and silver buckles about

the knees and feet. true that this

It is

to the

and

marked

in the

excessively

and

sombre costume gave a somewhat singular boldness which in the body resembled a barrel,

outline of his figure,

lower limbs suggested the idea of bean-poles, or something lank

and

thin,

supporting

something

particularly

round

fat.

Beneath the black hat which the stranger wore, appeared or rather shone a very sober countenance, with eyes

like

sparkling in a flame, cheeks red as Etna, a

little

minute points of

glass,

nose that could hardly

be called a nose, and a mouth which threatened every

move

to

invade the

ears and take possession of the back part of the head. It

sion,

a marked face, no doubt, and, notwithstanding was well calculated to excite tears of laughter.

was

"Peter," said the stranger, quite blandly, half-concealed by an enormous " Peter,

its

demure expres-

—

my

friend, allow

this interesting occasion.

me

to

It is

ruffle,

as,

with his large right hand,

he described a

subside into a

little

a long time since

I

circle in

the air

decorous emotion on

have seen you, Peter

— /

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON.

—

seems a

it

my

old,

boy

renowned was that

trifling

old

—

that

The

Peter— and

— shall

I

But we grow

nine or ten centuries. the

remark of an ancient

sage, no less

his

my

shows an expansive thought,

it

repeat the remark,,

man passed

old

it

majesty of his head, than the strength of his heart,

for the

his remark,

some was

matter of

—we grow —

227

my

it

dear Peter?"

hands over his white beard, thrust

his fingers

corners of his eyes, twitched at his gaiters, and shook his

in the

—

boy,

fat

frame,

who has been indulging in a bath. "Am I awake, or am I dreamin' ? Sam I say, Sam come here, you scoundrel, and let me pinch you, so that I may know whether I am asleep like a frolicsome dog,

!

Sam

But

!"

S-a-m

or not.

!

did not appear .

—crouching

behind the oaken chair of his

master, he wished to seclude himself from public view, with a modesty

worthy of an ancient hermit. "Shall

repeat the remark, Peter?"

I

profoundly. " In the

first

who you

us

are,

your legs

as

The

place,

continued the stranger, bowing

—" grunted Dorfner — "You'll

be so kind as to

and what you want, and then take yourself

You

you.

will carry

off,

tell

as quick

have legs-reh?"

March day, relenting all at once no means discomposed, the stranger placed his

old fellow smiled like a blustery

into the First of April.

By

hand upon

lowered his head, and stood for a moment in an

"To whose

his breast,

profound meditation.

attitude of

think of an event and a day like this!" he exclaimed, in a tone shrillness

reminded one of the voice of some demure spinster, who,

having refused fifty-one offers of marriage, has settled

Censor of a small neighborhood

the

and there it!

I

Peter!

is

come

—

•«

Here

I

am

down

at last, into

long absence,

after a

—dreamed of — not encompassed by the cares of the world,

have thought of the blessed meeting

I

at last; I see

him

but sitting in an arbor, with a white beard and a bottle of rum, and five

mowin' hay

strapping fellows

—thus —regaled strap,

and he does not

The poor

the distance.

in

It

is

thus

I

see him

by the combined fragrance of new-mown hay and black

fellow

know me

was

!"

Burying

lost in grief.

his face in his large hands,

he stood opposite the astonished Peter, a picture of despair.

"Sam, S-a-m, I say! You black name of Satan, who is this fellow?"

"He

don't

know me

rascal,

dim

all

vistas of

"

Why,

it is

" Jacopo to

memory, and

got drunk together

remind

?

me

— Will

—Jacopo!"

That was of

it

—

tell

me, in the

yet," soliloquized the stranger, rubbing the tip of

his nose with the forefinger of his right

the

come here and

my

call to

you,

my

hand

mind

— " Cast

your eyes through

that touching night,

when we

dear ?"

ejaculated Dorfner, with eyes like saucers.

name,

painfully.

my

love.

Your venerable

But now, since

I

exterior serves

have taken orders, and

"

228

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

.

been commissioned by an Archbishop or two,

to

wear

—

I

a

gown,

I

am

called

Reverend Jacob James."

the

You wear a gown you

"

!

preach

!

Git up on that bench and give us a

Ho, ho, ho

should like to hear you.

you?"

slice o' divinity, will

Jacopo, or the Reverend Jacob James, as he

now

designates himself,

took a seat on the bench near the chair of the old man, and in affecting silence proceeded to

portion of water.

a glass with a great deal of

fill

After

which he drank

rum and

a very small

the mixture with a sigh of calm

delight.

"How

is

He

with you, old boy?"

it

Dormer on

slapped Mr.

the

shoulder. " Purty well, I thank you,

"Poorly

— poo-r-ly,"

—how's yourself?"

sighed Jacopo,

my

regeneration of

pipe, and striking a light

filling a

from a tinder-box, which stood among the

bottles

— " My

species, and so on, have struck into

labors for the

my

pulmonaries.

how thin I am ?" The old man struggled with a fit of laughter, which seemed determined choke him to death. The wide mouth, little nose, diminutive eyes and

Don't you see

to

cheeks

red

sobriety,

of Jacopo,

all

subdued by an expression of exemplary

somewhat

contrasted

ludricrously with

spider legs.

"Droll as ever," laughed old Peter

Where have you been

dog.

around the arbor

—"You'll be

these two years, and

rotund form and

his

the death o'

me, you

— " Peter glanced stealthily

—"Where's your master — John — eh?"

"I have discharged him. He did not suit me," replied Jacopo, elaborum and water. " By-the-bye, how do things go It's now a matter of two years and six months since we with you ? What's the matter— hey? Your house shut up like a tomb? parted. rating another glass of

Where's

the

girl

little

— Madeline — Hello

death, with a gallopin' consumption

The

—

!

the old

cheerful visage of the benevolent Peter

man's choking

to

grew pale and then deep

purple; his eyes were fixed, and indeed his changed countenance manifested various indications of an apoplectic

fit.

him by a copious bath of rum and water, dashed It was some moments, however, before the good face.

Jacopo revived violently in his

man

revived.

" Sich a pain as

I

had

— sich a stitch in my

side

—ugh

!

I feel

quite cold.

rum and light me a pipe, will you?" Jacopo obeyed. With a tenderness that was quite filial, he prepared the draught and the pipe. The old man's white beard was presently obscured by a veil of tobacco smoke.

Mix me

"

a leetle

You

asked

after

Madeline,"

twinkling from the half-closed lids night.

There was blood upon the

he said, quite calmly, with his eyes

— " We never heard of

floor,

but that was all."

her since that

"

"

"

I

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHI£ON. "And

the hunter

" Gilbert,

—

—Tom,

Gilbert

229

him?" him nayther," mumbled Peter, with-

think they called

I

—never heard

o'

out removing the pipe from his lips.

You

" if

A

don't say!

"

Or

and a boy disappear on one night

girl

they went off together

—

—

it

looks as

— " suggested

he took her off and then made tracks himself

as if

Dorfner, with a singular twinkle in his half-shut eyes.

"How's matters about here Which way do you drink?" " That

just

you won't object

him!" The good old man

Eh? King or Country ?

?

There's a great deal

a ticklish question.

is

sides, but I s'pose

now, anyhow

to

fill

be said on both

to

a glass to His Majesty,

God

bless

but finding nothing

hand

his

lifted

like a

as if to raise his hat

from his head,

he apologized by raising the glass to

hat,

his lips.

"King, God bless him," cried Jacopo, "or, Continental Congress don't care a tuppence which."

Hey? what

"

—

"

Man

kind of

man

are you,

A—

anyhow?

yourself, fond of peace and plenty, quietness and

just like

tobacco, sound principles and Jamaica rum.

should you and does

it

make

I

quarrel about these

to us,

—

whether

we have

Tut

a

—

things

trifling

Why

Peter.

tut,

What

?

difference

King George or a King Wash-

ington?"

Jacopo winked rather familiarly shanks upon the

table,

at the old

man, and placing

his spindle-

leaned against the frame-work of the arbor, while

each corner of his extensive mouth emitted a cloud of bluish smoke.

Dorfner regarded him with half-shut eyes, and yet with a look of search-

Two

ing scrutiny.

years had not indeed given more wrinkles to the bluff

countenance of the old man, or stolen a solitary

seemed impaired,

cheeks, but his intellect

Even as he gazed sidelong into mured-r" Queer fellow queer

— queer "

—

his

tint

from his blooming

memory confused and

Where have

!

I

seen him

?

Odd

—

droll

!"

That was quite a touching incident," exclaimed Jacopo, I was all brandy and tears." "It melted me.

after a

—

pause

dim.

the complacent visage of Jacopo, he mur-

"What

are

you

drivin'

at?" cried Peter,

still

eyeing his

long

eccentric

companion. " It

It

was so very

seemed

to

affecting.

It

worked upon me

touch you a little—just a

little

—

peppered brandy.

like

Jacopo uttered these words without the slightest change

complacency of his face lips,

;

his feet

were on the

table, the

in the grotesque

pipe between his

and the glass of rum in his hand.

Peter opened his eyes.

"You were

He

regarded his friend with a wild stare.

saying something, but

whether

my

head

is

thick, or

—

"

^PAUL ARDENHEIM

230

whether you are drunk,

same

the

"

to

Why,

you, speak

cannot

I

telL

in English

it

—

OR,

;

Speak

out, will

Peter," said Jacopo, eyeing with calm

you

— and

satisfaction

if it's all

a puff of

smoke which floated slowly upward toward the fragrant ceiling of the arbor "I was just thinking of the poor girl Amelia Caroline, I think you

—

call

—

her ?"

man

" Madeline," said the old

"Madeline:

that's

looks like his blessed Majesty

it

What

name.

the

night!

rather sharply.

(Do you observe

it.

—

when she woke from her

a scene

my

never could get her words out of

I

What words The old man laid

smoke? how much nose)— Madeline. That's

that cloud of

there's his

mind

faintin'

fit

on that

— could you, Peter

?"

"

on the

table,

and rested his cheeks between into

immovable Jacopo.

the face of the

"Just watch Turk's head

his pipe

growing brighter and larger as he gazed steadily

his hands, his eyes

that puff, will

— the nose

you?

perfect!

is

Did ever you see sich a

— Oh,

capital

as to the girl's words, I can't of

course remember them, but you know, that she said something about her

"

mother being put out of the way, some eighteen years before *

The

d

she did !"

1

Peter's lips parted, disclosing his white teeth

set firmly together.

" Can't you call

brought

to the

mind

to

mother's anguish

—

his

How

are dull. 4

old

man

man

;

indeed he

But, had he looked into that face, he would

have encountered an expression of ferocity, such as coupled with venerable hair and white beard.

The

her mother was

while in the pains of a

gaze toward the face of the old

avoid his glance.

to

you

You remember, Peter?"

'

Jacopo did not cast

seemed

Peter,

?

farm-house of Wissahikon, and

did not speak

a

word

is

not oftentime

reply, but sank back into his

in

chair and closed his eyes.

moment, Jacopo ventured

After a for

to

turn his gaze

—ventured, we

say,

he seemed conscious that he was provoking the rage of a man who

was neither to be trusted nor despised. "There he sits, like a venerable Pope, Cardinals.

It is

a glorious picture

Godfrey Kneller, or

a

Michael Angelo,

all

— such,

traits

amid his ripeness

the

among

pencil of a

What

!

a dear old

a

that

man he

is,

!"

as these, in

Jacopo watched the slumbering man,

an undertone

—

"

What

a perfect old devil

shouldn't wonder' if he had a hoof and two claws." « The dear old 'possum !" he resumed in a loud voice

make

make

of virtue amid his fatness, such streaks of worth

With ejaculations such murmuring now and then

he'll

seventeen

Vandyke,

sketch that nose, and

to

beard eternal in white paint and canvass after

fast asleep

for

!

—" He

thinks

believe to be fast asleep, so that I can drink his liquor at

my

—

"

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON.

231

I

leisure, without

But no

— he

monk

nose like a

— Peter,

ness

The

— ah,

that snore

in a cloister,

say

I

my

shocking the delicate modesty of

asleep

is

Good man!

nature.

snore that seems to

sit

in his

and sings hoarse anthems in praise of

Wake up

!

—a

and drink,

will

corpulent Peter unclosed his eyes.

"You " Did

there yet ?" he said, in a gruff tone.

you think

you

I'd leave

Why,

?

I

mean

to stay all night with

may

you, and we'll have a good time together, and then to-morrow you over -'persuade

me

When

position.

manner,

'

My

to stay for a I

was

dear

together in a private

—

The remark bottles of

few days more.

in Italy, the

says

Jack,'

chamber

me Jack

he called

for

uttered by the

—we

in the Vatican

for short

—

Pope

For

am

I

Pope remarked he

were

of an obliging dis-

most

in the

taking

delicate

few

a

—'My dear Jack —

bottles

says he

'

Jack, while taking a few-

to his friend

wine together, was no doubt very

hopeless oblivion.

beautiful, but

lost in

is

it

was about to Peter, the good

as Jacopo, calmly puffing his pipe,

repeat the said remark, for the gratification of his friend old

fat-

you ?"

man, with an abrupt exclamation, bearing some resemblance

broke his pipe, and wished Jacopo and the Pope

to

the

to

an oath,

— end

of the

He did not say end of the world,' it is true, for he named a dark personage who commits all the sin in the universe, leaving poor mortality world.

1

scathless and innocent.

" I

want 11

Peter

to

know what you mean by makin' fun me these cock-and-bull stories, and

Tellin'

the idea- that I'm a-goin' to invite

Why — Mister This was

you

What's-your-name,

to

you.

?" continued

yourself with in

my

house.

11

seen the old man's face flushing with

the roots of his

hand descended heavily upon the

me

up your abode

J don't know

Had you

to the point.

anger from his white beard

to take

o'

fillin'

table,

hair, while his

clenched

you would have realized the

full

force of his words.

Jacopo smoked away, looking neither to the right nor left, nor down whole attention riveted by the fragrant

his nose, but straight forward, his

clouds which floated around the bowl of his pipe. " Do you hear ?" thundered the old man, " I say your

company. Tramp !" "Peter," said Jacopo very mildly, without turning

room

than your

insinuations are indelicate.

our sworn

friendship,

A

his

head

is

better

—"Your

stranger listening to us, and ignorant of

might draw unfavorable

inferences from

your

sly hints."

The good

To

Peter Dorfner could not believe his eyes or trust his ears.

own table, and in man whose body resembled

be bearded at his

by

liquor,

sticks

a

riis

own

arbor, over his

a barrel supported

own

by broom-

!

There were strange rumors among the country

folks in regard to Peter

PAUL ARDENHEIM

232

He was

much mistaken man.

either a basely slandered, or

was ferocious

;

OR,

;

His temper few of the neighbors

the source of his wealth mysterious;

came any longer

to

his farm-house,

man

him, regarded the good old

and even the men who worked

for

Had he

not

with an indefinable

fear.

turned law, divinity and physic into ridicule, by beguiling

mons, Doctor Perkenpine and a grave Parson

— cats

Every farm-house of

?

Wissahikon was

the

and even the firesides of Germantown grew pale with this grave matter, there was a

trifling

Lawyer Sim-

supper of barbecued

into a

full

of the Legend,

Mingled

at the idea.

suspicion of Murder hanging

around the history of the benevolent man. Peter was somewhat proud of his reputation

guished literary gentleman of the modern day,

is

even as some

;

distin-

delighted at being com-

—

— called pork when it is dead so the good man grew merry at the epithets " Beast and Bear !" You may therefore imagine the amazement, the indignation struggling into life on Peter's face, when he beheld himself defied and insulted by

pared to a certain animal,

!

—

old

the sublime impertinence of Jacopo.

"Sly

hints,

indeed!" he exclaimed, panting

grew purple with

" Shall

rage.

Jacopo smoked

1

kick you

meanwhile

in silence, glancing

paper which he had taken from his pocket.

somewhat

of an old newspaper, and was

for breath as his

over

all

my

visage

farm ?"

at a piece

of printed

looked like the fragment

It

triangular in form.

A

singular

grimace agitated Jacopo's face as he perused the irregular sentences and

broken words, which appeared upon

dingy

this

relic

:

was cealed

looks

with

rfner,

the

to

poor

the

and

rchments lead

out

some victim.

a

in

closet,

upon

a

Corpse,

large also

which

papers,

knowledge of the This

all

occu

Twenty-third of November, 1756; and in this confession, I

share in

Such was

this

ma

ask forgiveness of mankind for

detestable Crime,

the fragment, on

and Pray the

L

which Jacopo gazed with great

satisfaction,

his eyes twinkling with an expression of quiet malice, while his enor-

mous mouth displayed "

Now

its full

that looks very

magnitude

much

of an old newspaper after

all,"

may

another piece of paper,— newspaper too it

read quite sensibly.

of a Philadelphia merchant

hideous grin.

and

it's

but a dirty piece

Jacopo murmured, without removing the

pipe from his mouth, " and yet there

make

in a

like nonsense,

exist,

somewhere

— which, attached

in the world, to this,

would

By-the-bye, friend Peter, did you ever hear

named Hopkins

?"

—

!

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. The

last

words addressed

to

Dorfner only

elicited

233 an oath, coupled

with the words

The

¥

affairs,

scoundrel

!

and wanting

to

He was here some time, years ago, prying into my know what had become of Madeline. The dog

Will you travel, sirrah ?"

Jacopo rose from his

Then looking

seat,

and carefully placed his pipe upon the

into Peter's face, which, purpled

by

table.

rage, glared in a ray of

sunshine, Jacopo placed his hand within the breast of his waistcoat.

"Do pistol,

Peter

A

you see this little bit. o' convenience? mounted in silver and loaded with ball.

— you can see me tremble,

and another

trifle

like

it,

for I

if

I

you look sharp. told that you

am

pistol,

am So

nothing but a

a great coward, I

carry this

trifle,

are afflicted with

mad

dogs on the Wissahikon.

Jacopo spoke the

He was

truth.

coward

a

—

a pitiable coward, afraid

of the report of a pistol, frightened at the smell of burnt powder.

Yet,

on the present occasion, nerved by an inexplicable influence into something like courage, he dared

him on his own ground. " Sam, I say, where's

—

bring

me my

confront the irritable old man, and defy

to

that nigger

Sam, go

?

into the

farm-house and

pistols."

There was

man's gray eye— his lips were But the blind negro did not appear, and Dorfner,

a deadly light in the old

violently agitated.

purple with rage, and unable, from a delicate twinge of gout, to

accustomed vigor, was

his

left

exposed

to the

round

face,

move with

wide mouth and

impertinent eyes of the intruder. ff

man

Your impertinence is only a cloak, by "You have some deeper motive

—

As

if

* * * !" thundered the old

conscious that he had said too much, old Peter suddenly halted,

took up his pipe and began to

smoke

again.

The hand which

held the

pipe trembled like a leaf.

Amid all his bravado, there was delicately endowment of cowardice. Once or twice he shuddered as his eye rested upon the inflamed visage of Dorfner, but, disguising all marked indications of emotion, he silently examined his Jacopo resumed his

seat.

perceptible an inexhaustible

pistols.

—

"Ha, ha " a hearty laugh almost frightened Jacopo from his seat— "Ha, ha, my boy, did you think to make the old boy mad with you? You Capitally done, by * * * But you did not succeed, ha, ha, ha !

!

shall stay all the night with

You and me

only,

the neighbors. will

sing and

boy! you don't

Had

my

I'll

me, and we'll have a good time

good fellow,

brew you

fiddle,

know

for I don't care

about the

o't

together.

company

a punch, an old-fashioned punch, and

and we'll go reeling

to

our beds

—ho,

ho,

of

you

my

old Peter yet!"

the table taken wings and flown through

the top of the arbor,

"

PAUL ARDENHEIM;

234

OR,

Jacopo could not have been half so much confounded as he was now, by the sudden hilarity, the extemporaneous good-fellowship of the old man.

"We

we

boy,

will, old

command

will !" he shrilly shouted, as

power of speech

the

— "A night of

together

it

drink to your white beard, and you will drink to

I'll

added

Peter— "I'll take good

in a tone inaudible to

my

put medicine in

my

liquor, or steel to

soon as he could

—

my

that's the

and

legs,

word!

—" he

you don't

care that

throat."

—

" Where have you been all this time these two years and six months?" kindly inquired Dorfner. "Engaged on business of state," responded Jacopo "Settling a little ;

—

my

Emperor of Germany. But let me ask a question in return how have you been all tjiis while ? Any news stirring about the region? The old Wizard alive yet?" "Gone these two years. His house is shut up nobody at home. Supposed by some — ha, ha that he is gone to his Master — ho, ho!" It was a lame jest, and yet the fat old fellow laughed heartily, until his between

difficulty

friend

the

Pope and

the

—

—

—

broad paunch and white beard shook in sympathy.

"Then

Paul

"Paul Ardenheim,"

— " He

of voice

whom you

was a queer body,

there

they called him?

said the old

man, with

feared

—how's

that the

name?"

all

— Paul — Birmingham — was

this

sudden and marked change

a

has never been seen on the Wissahikon, since the last

night of Seventy-four."

"Had a sister

do

:

We

"

Was

he no family]

somewhere up

here,

us

tell

among

all

not there an old house, castle or monastery,

woods

the

not

safe

speaks of

to

him

The young man had

—

trifle

that

is,

—

"I'll not call

"You

much in devils, but Nobody about Wissahikon

—

—

you know, Paul or of his people what in the deuce do you

it

any thing just now.

don't believe in devils

My

?

God, but

one.

as to a Devil

believe in Devils.

I

As he

said this,

— human

It

is

You may

that

not believe

nature could not get along without

Pity the poor devil

who

we have

don't."

given to the reader, and glanced over

with a peculiar grimace, muttering with a chuckle

six

it '?"

Jacopo drew once more from his pocket the fragment

of printed paper, which

chant, but he

call

Talk about something else." dear old boy, don't you know

impossible to doubt the existence of a Devil?

in a

;

" I don't believe

with such matters.

" But the monastery, or castle, or

it's

a father

mention those people" said Dorfner, glancing over his

never

shoulder with an uneasy gesture it's

?

about him !"

sharp, dev'lish sharp

!

is

I

it

a mer-

Twenty-third of November,

those kind o' dates are like Devils.

"What's that?" cried Dorfner !" is mine I'll swear it

—" Hopkins

fifty-

believe in 'em."

— "Where did you get

that slip of

paper?

—

He

started from his chair, reached over the table, and attempted to

grasp the fragment.

His features were agitated by a mingled expression,

f

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. which Jacopo could not altogether comprehend. not

but seemed

rage,

like

fear

It

235

was not

fear,

it

was

and anger, struggling with a darker

emotion.

—

was going to light my pipe with it," said Jacopo, very quietly " I picked it up near the garden-gate. Take it, my old boy. By-the-bye, what does that Twenty-Third of November, fifty-six,' mean ? Day of your birth, I suppose and yet you look older than twenty-one." "

I

4

;

Peter took the paper, and pressed

same time drawing from

at the

it

against the table with his thumb,

a pocket another fragment,

which

fitted

it

with great nicety, thus producing the appearance of one piece of paper, square in form, and

filled

with the same printed characters.

Jacopo would have given the richest

tint

on his infinitesmal nose

for the

which was evidently a part of the first. He beheld Dorfner gazing upon it, with his eyes downcast, and his head bent upon his broad chest he saw the fingers of the old privilege of perusing this second fragment,

—

man shake

with an irrepressible tremor.

Rising from his

seat,

he glided

with a noiseless footstep to the side of his aged companion, and looked stealthily over his shoulder.

His small eyes dilated as he beheld the printed characters, and he could not repress an ejaculation which his surprise forced to his lips.

CHAPTER SECOND. THE FACE AND THE SHADOW.

"Hah I

vow

The two

!

paragraph— it reads

pieces form one

But the next moment he sank back, man,

quite sensibly,

!"

startled

by

his ejaculations,

The

affrighted and trembling.

had raised his head

;

his face

over his shoulder, and his eyes rested upon the visage of Jacopo. veins

stood boldly out

upon

that forehead

;

old

was turned

The

the cheeks, at other times

—

almost livid. flushed by the tints of good liquor, were now pale was mischief in the expression of the old man's lips, and a quiet

There ferocity

in his gaze.

"Who

told

The good

you

to

look over

my

shoulder?"

Peter did not swear; his tone was very even and subdued,

and therefore Jacopo

felt

that

there

was danger

in his eye.

Confused,

PAUL ARDENHEIM

236

power Dormer.

afraid, without- the

the gaze of Peter

Jacopo was

a

as frail as the

to

coward, and

now

he

knew

that his

life

hung on

Should he

he clasped his hands.

;

a chance

He changed

binds the withered leaf to the bough.

tie that

on his knees and beg

fall

mercy?

for

Did you read

— scoundrel ?"

voice unnaturally

low and calm.

"

OR,

frame an answer, he stood trembling before

knees shook together

color, his

;

There was something

was

pitiable in the contrast

muscular frame, with his face

by Dorfner,

the question asked

—stamped with

in a

—here, Dorfner, a man of

a sullen ferocity

—

his face

turned over his shoulder, thus presenting his forehead, nose and beard, in profile to the light

— there

Jacopo, with his face distorted into an expres-

sion of grotesque fear, while his slender limbs trembled under the weight

of his rotund body. In his terror he had forgotten his pistols.

was caused

abject fear as

as

much by

by the determined ferocity "Did you read, I say?"

Was the

it

courage

frenzied

born

of

the words

may have been

that his

of Dormer's visage.

the

energy of despair?

limbs trembled no longer;

It

which he had hastily perused,

consciousness

of a

Truth,

fatal

or

Jacopo became suddenly calm; his

something

was impressed upon

like dignity

his face.

Gazing over Peter's shoulder, he beheld the foliage

a face, through an interval of

— a face which seemed not the visage of a living

Apparition from the Other World.

At the sight of that

thing

face,

— but an

whose eyes

were fixed upon him, a strange energy filled the soul of the coward; calmly, his voice unbroken by a tremor, he uttered these words " I did read. And more than this, I only read what I knew before.

—

That you, Peter Dorfner, fifty-six, in

the

did,

on the night of November Twenty-third,

room near yonder chesnut

tree,

commit

a barbarous and

cowardly murder!"

As he meet

uttered these words, he folded his arms, and stood prepared to

his death.

The eyes were gazing upon him

the interval in the foliage he

with a

new

saw

the face, and

all

felt

Through coward soul filled

the while.

his

life.

He had no weapon, but a desperate strength, the fury of a madman, fired his veins. His chest swelling, the veins on his face standing black and protuberant Peter Dorfner rose from his seat, his face livid with rage.

from the

livid skin,

he advanced a single step, while his glance announced

his deadly purpose.

Jacopo did not move the fury of the old

;

pale and motionless, he did not wish to avoid

man.

For a moment, Dorfner, roused contemplated his victim.

into all the vigor of his early

manhood

"

;

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. "I

will

a tone

237

—" throttle you — will crush you with one grasp I

whose measured emphasis indicated

vengeance, better than

said Peter, in

nature of his

the relentless

the oaths, or boisterous language, that ever rose

all

the lips of madness.

to

At

moment

this

a

shadow passed between Dorfner and

As

the sun.

the

passed, a footstep was heard.

shadow

He turned his face to the west, and sank back in his chair, like a man who had received a bullet in his heart. His face expressed surprise dismay—his extended hand pointed toward the west.

—

Surprised beyond the power of language, Jacopo turned and gazed in

by the extended hand.

the direction indicated

The garden

walk, extending from the arbor,

stretched before

him, a brown path leading

the

to

western wicket,

among beds

of foliage and

flowers.

There was a form dark

attire,

the

in

path

young man dressed

in

down

steps, his

could not be seen, but as he went

dark

the form of a

His face

form thrown into distinct his

;

with a black mantle floating from his shoulder.

attire,

relief

the path with

by the western sky,

and fringed with a pale golden

measured

the

lustre

sunbeams

tinted

locks of his

the

black hair. It was a muscular form, tempered by the grace and beauty of young manhood; the step was firm and regular; though only the back of the unknown was visible, it was evident that he was attired in a costume, altogether different from the fashion of the day a dark dress, which fitted closely to his limbs, was only relieved by the graceful drapery of

—

a cap,

whose

His locks were surmounted

from his shoulder.

the mantle, that floated

by

solitary

plume rose

in

the sunlight, blackly defined

against the western sky. It

was

this

form which, passing before the arbor, had thrown a shadow

arm was nerved for a deadly blow and now, as unknown, without once looking back, went toward the western gate, the old man, stricken into his chair, as by a bullet, extended his hand, while his features were blank with amazement and terror. upon Peter's

face, as his

;

the

Jacopo could only gaze from the face of Peter the scene deprived "'It's

him

—

I'd

swear

and blood

"Who?"

it!"

gasped the old man, without moving his arm,

"I can't see

or changing his gaze. flesh

— a rale

livin'

his face, but I

man, but

exclaimed Jacopo, as the

his sperrit

memory

know

—

of the

eyes had nerved him for a desperate accusal, only a

back

to

him with overwhelming

"Who?

Don't ask

me — "

agitated, while his forehead

—we've

all

form

to the retreating

him of the power of speech. it's

Not

him.

unknown moment

face,

in

whose came

since,

force.

cried the old

was bathed

man,

his features

in perspiration

still

— "You

violently

know who

seen him afore, but since that night he has not been seen alive

— PAUL ARDENHEIM: OR,

233

on Wissahikon. him,

say;

1

It's

swear

I'll

a sperrit

—

I tell

you

—

if

he'd only look back

—

it's

to 't!"

With these incoherent words, old Peter still pointed towards known, his emotion growing more like madness every moment. "It's a living man," cried Jacopo "It is

the un-

—

—

name," the old man exclaimed with a shudder " I tell you he's no livin' man. He has not been seen on the Wissahikon since the night when Madeline disappeared There was a mangled body found, some days afterwards— it was him! No! no! No livin' man, by " Don't speak that

—

A

* * *!

To

sperrit

—

a sperrit!"

Jacopo the violent emotion of Peter Dorfner was altogether incom-

Peter, who had grown gray under suspicion of various who was said to fear "neither God nor Devil;" Peter Dorfner, who, only a moment since, stood prepared for a work of murder, now a

prehensible.

crimes,

and abject thing; stricken as by a supernatural hand

pitiable all

was

it

a mystery to the eyes of Jacopo.

True, he had himself beheld a face,

brilliant

with eyes of unutterable

power, looking upon him, through an interval of the

memory came his

to

lips,

A

foliage.

and, as

we have

seen,

was drowned by

the

vague

name

over him of having seen that face before, and a

rose

ejaculation

of Dorfner.

He

"Look! sperrit,

men

passes through the gate, but don't once look back!

He

say!

I

workin'

goes

down

the hill-side into the

the fields drop their scythes and

in

It's

meadow — hah! look

Does a

him.

at

a

The

man start up from the ground, walk between you and the sun, and steal away without once lookin' back ? Look yonder He is passin'

livin'

!

—he woods — Ah,

through the midst of them hurries toward the

Paul Ardenheim

And by

this

turns

him, not in body, but in sperrit

it's

man, who believed

ember of a great

in " neither

religious

With

ashes of a debased nature.

back insensible

God

That

—

it is

nor Devil," was conquered

superstition

principle, burning

the

Jacopo advanced

to the

been

amid the

word " Paul Ardenheim," he

table, eager to

Only one fragment met

may have faintly

fell

white foam.

in the chair, his parting lips spotted with

paper, and read at his leisure the their words.

Without lookin' back, he

!"

the mosj improbable superstition.

the last

—no!

grasp the fragments of printed

Revelation which was embodied in his view; the other had disappeared.

make head nor tail on't," he exclaimed, with ai) oath. "And yet Hopkins must have some hint of the matter, or he would not have "

I

can't

me

directed

to

search the room near the chesnut

room, Jacopo, and search every

way how

closet.

tree.

of paper or parchment, bring to me, and your fortune did old Peter obtain this paragraph of a

that he

is

suspected

o' doin'

Sleep

'

Whatever you discover newspaper?

is

in

made.'

that

the

But

— He must know

somethin' not altogether pretty."

I

in

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. While the

light playing

shone over the

among

the leaves and

239

flowers of the arbor,

and snowy beard of the insensible man, Jacopo

pallid face

'

anxiously perused the fragment.

After the deed

was done,

The body was

taken away,

the child

near

con

window which

Do

tree.

concealed

pa

certain

the

chesnut

suppose

I

may

name

real

of

on

rred

the

king

my ord

Jacopo examined the paper with a look of ludicrous dismay. I might make something out o' this. was taken away. There was a child, then? The body teas con'' — there was a 'body* also — Zounds! Where is that fragment? Why could not Hopkins have told me all about the matter,

" If

had the other fragment,

I

'After the deed

was

1

done, the child

1

me

instead of sending

my

that

in the

my

the chance of having

Here

dark on such a fool's errand.

throat cut twice, and

even

now am

I've stood

not certain

lungs will not be perforated by some dirty piece of lead or other

— ah, that fragment,

fragment!"

that oracular

As Jacopo thus gave vent to his feelings in a crude soliloquy, he did not cease to examine alternately, and with a searching glance, the piece of paper which he held in one hand, and the white-bearded face, which glowed

in the sunlight at his side.

The more

"

I

it, the more I am convinced that he knows someAnd Madeline is no common peasant girl a stray

think of

—

thing of Madeline. slice cut off

from the fruit-cake of aristocracy

such an interest

Let

the matter?

in

Hopkins and

my

me

!

Why

should Hopkins take

Two

think!

years and six

There was some talk about a mysterious affair; in fact, the merchant and the lord were never done muttering, whispering, and counselling with each months

other.

ago,

— Oh,

my

late

master were thick as thieves.

unpropitious stars,

why

did

I

incur

thus

your ven-

geance?"

As though some his

terrible

memory had

crossed his brain, Jacopo clasped

hands piteously, and cast his eyes toward the top of the arbor.

"Why sinful

me

sent

did I thus depart from the strict line of

weakness? to

Hopkins's house,

important papers. seal

!

Yes, on the day when

I

Pitiable frailty

to

had them !

Had

I

his in

my

my

lord

own chamber,

my

duty, and betray a

left

Philadelphia,

in fact, to get

he

certain

hand, and yet forgot to break the

even moistened the seal with

warm

water,

— PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

240

be some excuse

there would

That

effort.

been revealed

— but as

have no security

me, but as

for

the case stands,

my

for

the breast

thumb. "

know

I

only get

I

Oh,

!

The

right

little

about

it,

and

hand was clenched

apoplexy

a vagrant catalepsy to throw

finger

and

cry of joy.

to a

—but he may recover—hah

it

for a stray

Advancing

dev'lish

was a fragment of paper between the

there

;

Jacopo gave utterance

Could

again

make an

throat or lungs !"

His eye rested upon the insensible man.

upon

did not even

I

it is,

once removed, the whole secret of the matter would have

seal

He

!

begins to breathe

touch old Peter on the neck, or even

to

into a trance !"

him

he touched the hand of the insensible man, but

stealthily,

Peter did not move.

"I know you

— you

Makin' believe

old dog!

me

hear; and in a minute you'll spring upon

He was

touched the fragment; gently, very gently, but the old man's hand

Trembling from head

like a vice.

did not unclose

Jacopo's In a ;

The paper

eyes.

his

Jacopo seized the hand,

to foot,

The

and pressed the thumb and forefinger apart.

ment

you don't see or

that

like a she wild-cat!"

fluttered

man

old to

stirred, but

the ground, near

feet.

moment he had and here

is

seized

the result,

of

concealed

with

lead

some

to

upon

This

all

Twenty-third of November, this

confession,

share in

Jacopo shook

was

it

1756

near

concealed

also

which

I

suppose

name

real

occurred

and in

;

the

chesnut

large

on

the

making

crime, and Pray the

like a withered leaf.

feared above another,

a

ask forgiveness of mankind for

I

detestable

this

was taken away.

knowledge of the

poor victim.

the

within the other frag-

closet,

a

papers,

it

:

Corpse,

the

parchments and

child

in

out

looks

Dorfner,

certain

may

he had placed

;

was done, the

After the deed

The body was window which tree.

it

which he beheld

If there

the monosyllable

'

my

Lord

was one word which he

Corpse.'

Corpse!' "I have no objection to 'body,' used in a funeral sense, but Dorfner' oh, ho, my dear old So unpleasantly suggestive No wonder you start and swear, and go off in faintin' spells— no boy 4

Augh

!

!

!

wonder. an eddy

A

«

Poor victim'

—

'

child'

'

—

—my brains goes whirling

like a cork in

!"

black face rose slowly over the chair of the insensible Peter.

Jacopo

shuddered as he saw the sightless eyeballs glowing redly in the sockets, while the sun streamed over the dark visage. A knife gleamed over the grey hairs of Dorfner

;

it

was clenched

in the right

arm of

the negro.

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. Jacopo

left

the arbor on tip-toe, passed around

He

noiseless step toward the farm-house. the chesnut tree, that fatal tree,

and strode with

will

a

passed under the shadows of

Up

and cast an anxious glance toward the window.

you

remember, Gilbert climbed on the

Jacopo stood on the

1775.

it,

24]

stone

threshold

— the

last night

farm-house

of

door

was open.

He

cast a searching glance around.

All

The sun shone gayly solitary bird chirping among

the farm-house.

there

To

was a

among

new-mown

the piles of

scythes rested

upon

the grass

;

hay.

still

and desolate about

the foliage of the chesnut tree.

with the laborers grouped But they labored no longer their

west stretched the undulating

the

was

over the roof of the barn, and

field,

;

every face was turned toward the western

woods.

Even sill

as

he stood upon the threshold stone, one foot resting upon the

— while his hand —Jacopo turned gaze

of the door

printed paper

direction indicated

A '

the

torn fragments of

far to the west,

and gazed

shadows gathered thickly beneath the luxuriant

was

in the

by the extended arms of the laborers.

dark form was seen on the verge of the distant woods,

for the It

grasped

still

his

the form which, not long ago, had passed

and the sun, and with

its

shadow

stricken

— dimly seen,

foliage.

between the old man

him down

in the

very act of

murder. " Paul Ardenheim," cried Jacopo, as he crossed the threshold—" Or

Ghost." He closed the door and was lost to sight. At the same moment, the dark figure disappeared among the shadows

his

of the distant woods, and a deep groan resounded from the arbor

CHAPTER THIRD. THE DOVE.

The its

dark form which come between the old mart and the sun, and with shadow struck him down, even in the act of Murder; was it indeed

Paul Ardenheim, or but an apparition gliding sadlyand noiselessly through the light and

shadow of

the

summer day

?

In the woods which bloom so fragrantly around the Wissahikon,

may

find an

answer

to

we

our question.

There was a narrow path leading from the 16

field

of

new-mown- hay,

PAUL ARDENHEIM

242

dow

nooks of the

into the

>

Where

hikon.

grouped

one rich contrast of foliage

in

the

shadows

the

field

— such

was

new-mown

Wissa-

where

:

the sunlight came lovwhere a tiny thread of

gray old rock, and made low music among

a

wild-wood path, which

the course of the

hay,

;

to the

led from

verge of the Wissahikon waters.

measured step, never backward glance through the

path, the dark form hastened with a

this

once looking light

to the waters of the

of gold upon the sod

down

liquid silver trickled

Along

down even

the oaks and chesnuts, the maples and the pines, were

ingly, scattering patches

of

forest,

OR,

;

to the right or left, or casting a

and shadow of the woods.

Now

in the sunshine,

where every

outline of the shape, every lock of

the waving hair, and point of the dark

attirr,

was

and now

fully disclosed,

where the thick leaves spread a tremulous canopy, and the low voice of the tiny rill sung through the silence. Now turning the breast of this gray rock, crowned by a clump of saplings, now along this level slope, where the moss, softer than any carpet,

into the shade,

glowed

brown

in a

passing ray, and

now

along this barren strip of earth, whose

leaves are darkened by the twilight of the withered pines.

Thus, without once looking back, or glancing

to

the right or

left, the*

and

of 'fresh

dark form wandered on.

At

last there

came

a

narrow

dell,

open

to the sunlight,

full

A

narrow

with walls of leaves on either side,— or rather with the

foliage

wild grass, whose vivid green was sprinkled with flowers. dell,

spreading from the grass to the sky, like

immense

A

rendered surpassingly beautiful by fairy hands.

whose wild grass the tiny thread of whose silence the low song was ever At the western extremity of

The shadow which

beautiful,

—shone

the dell,

a glimpse of

at the kiss

And

— above

where

it

widened

into a slope of

making

the water

among more calmly

a flood of

an opening

hazy

light,

in

vague

which came rushing

in the trees.

the calm sheet of water,

undimpled by a ripple

Heaven, whose deep azure was blushing

into gold,

of the afternoon sun.

the dark form

striking

through

and through

and wrapping the giant trees on the opposite shore

like a golden rain through

Above

dell,

singing.

this dell,

rested there,

was only broken by

twilight,

narrow

silver sparkled fitfully,

of tapestry,

calm sheet of water, embosomed

carpet-like moss, sparkled a

leaves.

folds

which had passed between the old man and the sun, its shadow, hastened along the dell, without once

him down with

looking back.

As

it

came

in sight of the

silence, uttered

by

calm sheet of water, a word arose upon

the

a voice of sad emphasis.

That word was " Wissahikon !" last the form drew near the water-side, and

At

without a ripple, in

its

frame of rocks and

that

calm sheet, spreading

trees, reflected a face.

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. was

It

a

bronzed

243

shadowed by locks of dark brown

face,

beard upon the firm lip softly relieved the

— dark beard,

There

hair.

were large lustrous eyes beneath the boldly marked brows.

There was

which clothed the round chin, and There was a broad forehead,

dark olive complexion.

power of language to describe. in its young manhood, so darkened in every lineament by some memory of the past, or prophecy of the future, the Wissahikon waters never reflected before this hour. shadowed by

gloom beyond

a

all

Altogether, a face so bold, and yet beautiful

The dark form

stood by the water-si*

though he

he was palsied, but his

own

stricken his veins with palsy.

fever,

the

old

man was

hurled

—

— — ;

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON.

485

and loathsome cell; his sight was gone, his brain was dead, Son brought him into light again, and chained him to the tower floor. Your young Lord wished the Lordship of Mount Sepulchre ere his father was dead." "It is false! Knave the lie blisters on thy tongue!" shouted Ralph of Grey-wolf, but the rest of the Twenty-Four was silent. Murmurs such into a dark

when

his

from the Ghosts that haunt accursed burial

as the belated wayfarer, hears

places, began to creep from lip to lip.

"And

I

first

yes

And

struck off his chains.

floor of that foul den.

And

I,

word of kindness he had heard

—

I

him from

raised

the loathsome

the Italian, the Sorcerer, spoke to

something

his dead brain throbbed into

him

the

in the long night of blindness, yes, like life at the

sound of

my

Meanwhile your young Lord, crept into the chamber, sacred with the presence of a pure woman, and in the darkness, aye, like a coward who does a coward's murder in the dark, he went to his infernal words.

treachery.

He, pressed that

lip

which

I

had never touched, even with a

brother's kiss, he dishonored that form, which

I

had never looked upon,

but from afar and with the reverence of a holy worship."

" She was thy leman," said old Ralph bluntly for the loves of a

—

" This castle

is

no place

wandering beggar and his mistress."

But the Twenty-Four did not chorus

his words.

Something

pathy subdued the ferocious resolve, which had impressed

like

sym-

their faces

it was an Lord Harry of Mount Sepulchre, had deserved much on account of the Italian woman, as for the blind-

whispering one with the other, they said with a shudder that infernal deed,

and that

his death, not so*

my

ness and palsy of the old man, his father.

—

must answer for the deed " said the youngest of them ail, and an ominous murmur echoed his words, as sword in hand he advanced from the group— "Answer for it now, and with thy life !" "Still thou

" First uncover the corse !" said the Italian, clutching his dark robe

with trembling hands.

Old Ralph with his dagger between his teeth, and his sword under his arm bent down, and touched the dark robe, which veiled the dead, " Hold!" cried the young knight "Let him answer first how the deed was done. We all beheld thee cross this pall, an hour and more ago, on Thou didst not return this way. How didst thy way to the castle gate. Answer me ?" gain entrance to the castle ?

—

The

Italian

simply replied,

" Uncover the corse, and

in his

Old Ralph grasped the dark spectator, a

man

you

cloth,

manifested in their straining eyes,

new

low sad voice

I will tell

all

!"

and the

when

was was increased by a

interest of the group,

their circle

with haggard face and blood-shot eyes,

who

unobserved behind the grim knight, and looked upon the motionless with a vague and horror-stricken gaze.

As every eye was

fixed

stole

Italian

upon the

:

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

486

bony hands of

new

which covered the dead,

old Ralph, grasping the robe

this

spectator of the scene passed unobserved, until the Italian raising his

glance, beheld that haggard face, with

eyeballs discolored with injected

its

blood.

At the sight the

"

The Lord

face,

of

back, wavered to and fro like a

Italian started

drunken with wine, and then which pierced every soul

gave utterance

his lips

Mount Sepulchre come back

to life !"

man

an ejaculation

to

and dropping his

covered by the cowl, upon his breast, he stretched forth his white

hands toward the haggard form.

They

raised their eyes, and a cry such as never

was heard before within

dome ''The Lord of Mount Sepulchre come back to life !" It was even so. The haggard form, w'th dress disordered and golden hair matted upon the brow damp with oeaded sweat and blood-shot eyes rolling in a livid face, was none other than Lord Harry of Mount

those walls, pealed echoing to the

:

—

—

Sepulchre.

He gazed

into their affrighted faces without a

with an idiotic glare.

" If thou

art the

Lord of Mount Sepulchre

—"

word

;

his eyes rolled

the Italian whispered, his

white hands extended and his head drooped on his breast,

was

it,

that

fell

beneath

my

steel in

—" Then who

yonder chamber?"

Old Ralph stripped the dark cloth from the breast and face of the dead.

And

every knight moved one step backward, even old Ralph shrank

shudderingly

away

;

haggard Lord and the Italian confronted each

the

other beside the corse. It

was an aged man, whose gaunt form was clad in to the breast, was dabbled in blood.

white beard, flowing

open, fixed in death stretched

man It

stiffly

;

the

jaw

fallen, the

rags, but

The

whose

eyes wide

hands cramped and distorted,

beside the lifeless frame

a sadder sight the eye

of

never saw.

was

the old Lord,

And around spectators,

The its face,

this

Hubert of Mount Sepulchre.

hideous image of Sudden Death, thronged the affrighted

—knights and

servitors

— every face blank, every

Italian knelt beside the corse,

lip sealed.

and stretched forth his hands over

muttering to himself in a low voice.

Lord Harry,

like a

man

ridden by a night-mare, looked vacantly into

the face of the dead, and then into the eyes of the spectators, as

if to

ask

meaning of the scene. The dead awe which rested upon

the

the hall of Palestine, was disturbed by a low and gentle step, and there came a woman's form, half hidden in the raven hair which flowed to her knees, stealing through the throng, and taking her place, in silence, between Lord Harry and the prostrate Italian.

Through

the

meshes of her

hair, her

white arms were seen folded over

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON.

487

her breast, and her eyes, unnaturally large, dazzled the spectators with their brightness, as they vacantly turned their glance

"

The

Italian's

from face

to face.

!"

leman

So pale and yet so beautiful she stood there, attired as much in the waves of her black tresses as in her loosened robe, that the spectators "

thought they beheld no living woman, but a

"Raphael innocent

1" she whispered,

spirit

down

bending

from the other world.

beside the Italian,

—"I am

!"

The words were

simple, but the sound of her voice seemed at once to

break the spell which chained the Sorcerer spectators in breathless awe.

At once the

the corse, and

bound the

Italian started up,

and dashed

to

her from him, yes, dashed her beautiful form upon the breast of the dead at

once the knights rushed forward, brandishing their swords,

Harry, recovering from his

idiotic

at

;

once Lord

apathy, raised his voice, and called for

vengeance upon the Assassin of his Father.

Amid

the infuriated throng, the Italian stood erect,

hemmed

in

by

a

interwoven swords, that glittered in the light like fiery serpents^

circle of

shut out on every side from hope and

life,

by brawny arms and

faces red-

dening with the lust of blood.

But

at

moment

this

thirty living

occurred a scene, which, witnessed as

men, seems so strange, so

Eustace Brynne, the writer of

my

this

it

utterly incredible, that

chronicle, tremble as

I

I,

record

was, by

humble it upon

page.

Even

as the

Knights rushed forward

to

sheathe their swords in the blood

of the Italian, the lights were obscured and the wide hall darkened by a

dome

cloud of vapor, which rolled from the lating columns.

the face of his

to the floor in vast

and undu-

This vapor blinded every eye; no one could distinguish neighbor they tossed to and fro like men bewitched, and ;

And from

grappled with each other in the gloom.

that rose-colored cloud,

their shouts and curses swelled into the dome, like the confused cries of

drowning men from the vortex of a whirlpool. When the vapor cleared away, and the lights shone brightly once more throughout the

hall,

and the knights beheld each others'

faces, they found

themselves standing sword in hand, around the corse of the old man; Lord the most infuriate of the throng, rending the shook his dagger over his head. But the Italian and the Woman had disappeared.

Harry

stillness

with curses

as he

In vain they searched the wide hall

behind the hangings servitors.

;

in vain their

There was no

had seen them

fly

;

;

swords

in vain they thrust their

angry questioning of the frightened

trace of the Italian and his mistress.

no door had been opened

to give

No

one

them egress from

the Hall.

But they were gone

They had

;

their place beside the

body of the dead was vacant.

vanished like forms of cloud before the morning breeze.

— PAUL ARDENHEIM

488

When

OR

;

consciousness was impressed upon the hearts of the Knights,

this

they gathered again around the body of the old man, resting the points of

swords upon the marble

their

his breast

upon

floor, as

Lord Harry was

the dead. ;

his eyes

they looked with fixed eyes upon

arms drawn tightly over sunken beneath the downdrawn brows, were rivetted in their midst, his

his Father's face.

No

one dared question him concerning his knowledge of

this terrible

deed, but that which no one asked, he told himself in broken tones. "

It is

work of Sathanas

the

I"

he muttered, as though speaking with

—"My hand was on the door of her chamber, when — voice and hers — mingling low and hurried

himself wit«hin

she was

telling

him

had been

that he

there, but an

he had pressed his kiss upon her lip, and my name trembled from his

angry tones, and

into the

which rushed

light

shadows

cell

;

thee,

followed by the sound

was

listening. 1 drew was opened, and by the blaze of I saw his arm lifted, and saw my father He, too, had been concealed within the

into the cell,

bleeding beneath the blow.

I

he had started up as the light flashed in his

me.

for

my Lord Harry

For, as the of

look upon the corse, he

stairway of his

cell

old man's chains

Sepulchre

How

face,

came

Then, without turning

/'

my

cheek and rolling eye,

to

work of Sathanas

and received the

he shrieked, 'this for

caitiff struck,

father there

opens into the Wizard's room, but It is

?

Mount fled.

listened;

the door

;

fall

blow intended

I

hour before, and that

he denied in cold and lips,

of a footstep, approaching the door by which

back deeper

heard voices

I

tones.

in

his

to

True, the

?

who unloosed

the

!"

he turned with a flushed his brave Twenty-Four, " Yes, the Enemy of

the

Mankind hath been among us !" There was no answer for the young Lord of Mount Sepulchre. The Knights, young and old, looked upon his face and upon the cold face of the dead, and kept their peace.

"What do poison

in

1

my

see

?

look

been here— let us

?

Do you Come

forget

shrink from

—

it all

the

in a

my

touch, gentle sirs

good old man

brimming cup

!

is

dead

?

Is there

— Sathanas

God's death,

my

has

good

companions, your pale visages are enough to make a man afraid !" The brave Knight seemed to have forgotten the wine-cup and the board, in the

dumb

horror of the dead man's face. Old Ralph alone gave answer

Lord of Mount Sepulchre « Cover his face, my good Lord, and let us to our beds. As for me, by or for some France other for land, where bound am light, I to-morrow's to the

there is Priest and Shrine, to wash out the stain of sin, from my Soul. This night's work my good Lord, hath made me think strangely of the wild life, we have led together." The young Lord answered him with a curse, when Iron Dickon's huge

form appeared in the Western door, his hand extended in the act of beckoning to his Master. The Baron crossed the marble floor, and conversed for a

;

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. moment with

489

more

to the

nothing yet of this" said the young Lord, pointing

to the

his vassal,

and

after a little while,

returned once

group, as Iron Dickon disappeared.

"He knows corse, "

my

And

as for

me,

I

had neither heart nor time

he waited tenderly upon the old

faith,

to tell

man while he

him now.

By

He

tells

lived

!

me now, gentle sirs, that an hour ago he secured the Italian, and conveyed him by a secret passage to the cell beneath Saladin's tower. You may make of that what you please, but for the present, Iron Dickon brings What say you, my good Knight? A messtrange intelligence to us all. He demands instant ausenger from our King waits at the Castle gate. Let the body of the dead be removed hide it behind dience with me. the hangings. I will await the coming of this Messenger, where I stand." They raised the corse, and wrapped it in the sombre robe, and. hurriedly concealed it, behind the drapery of the Hall. Lord Harry, with one hand laid upon the banquet table, and the other resting upon the hilt of his sword, stood in an attitude of calm dignity, awaiting in silence, the comHis cheek was bloodless, his lips withing of King Henry's Messenger. out color, his eyes blood-shotten, and yet he was calm. Behind him, ranged in a half circle were grouped the renowned Twenty-Four, their faces, one and all, wearing a look of blai^v awe, while their gaze was fixed upon the Western door of the Hall. They awaited the appearance of the ;

Messenger with a vague curiosity and suspense. " He will leave his men-at arms without the castle Hall alone," exclaimed Lord Harry

gate,

and enter the

" 'Tis a privilege of

Our Race, thus I' faith he does not seem in a to receive the Messenger of the King. Shall we wait for him, till morning dawns ?" jjurry to fulfil his message. The words had not passed his lips, when the Western door was opened, either by trumpet peal or the voice of by Iron Dickon, and unannounced Herald the Messenger of the King entered the Hall of Palestine. As he crossed the marble floor, advancing toward Lord Harry, every eye took

—

—

the

measure of

light

:

his form,

shone on his

He was

in

and a murmur swelled through the Hall, as the

face.

good sooth, a

man

of remarkable bearing.

and majestic, was clad

in a close-fitting garment of purwhich set off every grace of his figure, and gave new dignity The velvet, which looked black to the kingly composure of his carriage. by the rays of the lamp, was only relieved by a single diamond, which

His form,

tall

ple velvet,

shone upon his

left breast,

and dazzled every eye.

carried a mantle of dark velvet,

and his

left

which hung

On

his right arm, he

in easy folds, as

he advanced

hand, grasped his cap, shaded by a cluster of jetly plumes.

His brow was uncovered and every eye beheld his face. It was a noble countenance, every feature looking like the work of the Around the great Sculptor's chissel, firm, regular, and cold as marble. forehead,

unseamed by

a wrinkle, but pale as death, clustered his hair, in

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

490

profuse masses, which seemed even blacker than the mantle hanging on

His eyes, somewhat sunken beneath the brows, shone with

his arm.

expressible lustre

;

in-

they were black, and yet more bright and dazzling

than the star which glittered on his breast. In a word

if

would have

the form,

your gaze among a crowd

attracted

of a thousand, the face would have

won your

among

the form

While

thousand faces.

ten

Monk;

face brought to mind, the countenance of a

red

with

Monk

not a joyous

the juice of the grape, and swollen with good cheer;

too,

Monk, but

si

cell.

Your pardon,

Stranger,

gentle

sirs,

for this

unwelcome

that the

business of the King.

Will

said the

intrusion,"

he surveyed the knightly throng, " But

Tts

Mount Sepulchre, on him

it

buried in the awful silence and breathless solitudes of his earth-

hidden "

eye, and chained

indicated the warrior, the

I

it

seek the Lord of

please ye, to inform

Count Capello, craves an interview on behalf of

his dread

Majesty Henry the Eighth ?"

These words pronounced

in a

measured

voice,

and with an

produced an impression as sudden as

it

was

air of great

Not a few murmurred such words as, " Foreigner One of the outlandish favorites of the King !" others gazed in silence upon the commanding face of the Stranger, while Ralph of Grey-wolf exclaimed with Mayhap a Cardinal in disa deep sigh " A true Catholic by the Rood guise. I will confess to him !" As for Lord Harry, he felt the blood rush to his face, as the quiet tones of the Count Capello penetrated his ears " I am the Lord of Mount Sepulchre, Sir Count," he said, and drew himself up with a haughty air. "Thou !" cried the Count with a start. " I cry your mercy, noble Sir,, I pray you, lead me but I was told that Lord Hubert was an aged man. to him, or at least, give me audience with Lord Ranulph his elder Son." " I am Lord Harry, Baron of Mount Sepulchre," cried the young Lord

dignity,

various.

of the knights,

!

—

!

:

in

a burst of indignation, for

roused his blood

—"As

for

the gaze and

Lord Hubert, he

look of the foreign Count, is

blind and old, and never

again will give audience to any one, not even to the King himself, were

he

to

honor

my

poor mansion with his presence.

abroad years ago. Beautiful

it

Sir Count,

is to see,

I

And Ranulph

—he died

await the message of the King !"

the native dignity of a high-born English

Lord

!

There was Baron Harry, as gallant a Knight as ever rode to battle, raising himself to his full stature, his proud lip curling, and his blue eyes full of icy scorn, while the Foreign Count, abashed

drew back

a step,

bowed

his

head and held

by

his

commanding presence

his jetty

plumes before

his

face.

" There

is

the message of the King, gracious Sir," he said, and with-

THE MONK OF THE W1SSAHIKON

491

out raising his face, extended a folded parchment, which was burdened

with a heavy seal. "

The

Seal of his Majesty !"

murmurred Lord Harry,

as

he opened the

Thy Brother Lord Ranulph parchment, "Hah! What is this I behold " with a flashing eye, he drank in the briaf words of that Royal lives 1

—

!

'

missive.

The hand which grasped the parchment dropped by his side. He — now bloodless and ashy toward the Foreign Count, who still preserved his attitude of mute respect, and held his plumed cap,

—

turned his face

before his face.

"The King Mass

me

writes

by

the

my

good Knights

that

!

?

my

that

Brother, Lord* Ranulph lives, aye, and

he will be here in a few days.

Has

What say

ye,

some

per-

not our dread Lord, been deceived by

Pope !" There was wonder and consternation painted upon the faces of the Murmurs perKnights, beyond the power of my poor pen to describe. vaded the air, and old Ralph swore somewhat blasphemously, that he was

fidious follower of the

bewitched, and given over

Stahanas on account of his sins.

to

Count, perchance you will make plain

" Sir

b

mystery," said Lord

this

Harry, in a tone by no means bold or deep, while his pallid cheek and quivering

contrasted

lips,

and red-brown beard. " jest of the

The

was

it

his

my

is this

seen

brother, or

golden

curls

but a merry

good King ?"

Count

stranger

sage, as

somewhat strangely with

You have

agitated

raised his head, and the light fell

by

his pale vi-

know me, even yet?" he whispered

"Brother, dost thou not

know

upon

a smile of singular sweetness.

—"My

methinks some pulse of our father's blood, throbbing about thy heart might have told thee ere this, that it was features

I,

I

are changed, but

Ranulph thy Brother

The son

—

!"

—

Harry staggered back reeled wildly like one and would have fallen to the floor had it not been for gallant

bereft of rea-

the extended

arms of old Ralph. "

Thou

!"

he cried with chattering teeth and corpse-like visage, as he of the old knight: "Thou my brother Thou,

struggled in the arms

Ranulph

Nay

!

—nay —Ranulph

dust long, long ago.

Then

was

It is all

!

is

a cheat

Ranulph has been grave-yard mockery !"

dead,

—a

that the Stranger, rising

to his full height, surveyed the gaze and a sad sweet smile. Every one confessed the majesty of his presence and the noble lineage written on his brow.

silent

"

it

throng,

He

with a calm

does not

come back

know me

!"

to the castle of

know me !" He raised

he sadly

my

said, "

Alas

and mine

fathers .

* ft*

the

plumed cap

as if to hide his tears.

!

the woeful hour

own

!

I

brother does not

:

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

492

m Lead me," he muttered, in a voice broken and hurried, " Lead

man,

the old

he

my

at least, will

know

me

Let

father.

feel his

his long lost son

my

hands upon

brow

me

!'

Silence reigned throughout the hall, silence dead and leaden as a

The Knights

ard's spell.

to

again,

fixed their affrighted eyes

and with curdling blood, confessed within

their

upon

Wiz-

the stranger,

inmost souls, that he was

indeed Lord Ranulph, or his Ghost. the

arms of the old Knight,

" Brother— forgive

— " he gasped—"

Forgive and take

last.

Lord Ranulph

— lifted his

—

for

it

my was

hand

I

was but

a child,

when

I

saw thee

!"

the elder son of

Baron Hubert,

in

good sooth

pale face once more, and his dark eyes shone with tears, as

once sad and sweet, hung on his

that peculiar smile, at

"

tottered

Meanwhile, Harry struggling from forward and extended his hand

Thy hand my

Hah

lips.

makes the heart swell, to touch the palm of a Mount Sepulchre once more. Wine, my gallant Sirs, wine For I would pledge my brother in a brimming cup, and my fair dame, brother.

!

It

!

shall press

"

it

with her

Thy dame

he drinks, in token of her sisterly love

lips, ere

?" exclaimed Baron Harry, and his surprise was

!"

echoed

by the Knight. " Behold her

!

The Lady

Eola, wife of Ranulph of

and from the shadows, came a

woman

Mount Sepulchre V

of beautiful shape, clad in a garb

She had

of rich velvet, with a dark veil drooping over her face.

unperceived over the threshold, and

now

glided

stood by her husband's side, her

white hand, laid gently upon his mantle.

The dark

habit

which she

wore, disclosed the outlines of a form, at once slender and voluptuous, while the thick folds of her veil could not altogether hide the dazzling brightness of her eyes.

Beshrew

my

heart, but

it

was

right wonderful, to behold the thunder-

stricken faces of the gallant knights

"

He

brings his good

"'Tis Venus herself

"A "

in funeral garb,

form like Anne Boleyn

And

all

!

dame with him, from other !"

with a black

veil

lands," cried one,

over her face !"

exclaimed another.

the dignity and presence of our late

Queen

!"

added a

third.

Lord Ranulph took a golden cup, brimming with old wine, from the hand of Sir Ralph, and spake to the beautiful lady, in an unknown tongue.

She answered in a voice, low and sweet, but the wondering knights, could by no means comprehend her words. " The Lady Eola cannot master the rude syllables of our English tongue," said Ranulph, turning to his brother, " But she greets you as a Brother, my true Harry, and consents to press her lips to the cup, ere passes to yours, in token of her sisterly love !"

True a

man

cup

;

it

it

was, that the brave Harry, pallid and amazed, looked not unlike

enchanted.

He saw

he bent forward eager

the white hand of the beautiful to

dame

lift

the

gain a glimpse of her face, as she parted

— THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. the folds of her veil

but the sight of her lips,

;

golden rim of the goblet, was

And

in a

he took of no

moment,

that white

their fingers slightly

it,

moment

warm and

rewarded

red, pressing the

his gaze.

hand held the cup towards him, and touched each other. 'Twas it

was,

to the

Lady Eola,

his

own

a

as

circumstance

blood with

filled his

fire.

Lord of Mount

brother, drink to the return of Ranulph,

Drink

!

that

but that touch, slight as

;

my

" Drink,

Sepulchre

all

493

dame, and henceforth

fair

thy loving Sister, Harry !"

As he spoke, the Lord Ranulph contemplated his brother with an earngrew radiant, as with a joy too deep

est look, while his great forehead, for utterance.

Harry of Mount Sepulchre,

— Brother,

younger

veiled Eola to the

'

—no

longer Lord, but simply,

1

the Lord's

slowly raised the cup, turning his gaze from the

Lord Ranulph,

The golden rim touched his lip From that instant the place of

as the golden rim touched his lip.

the brave Harry, in

the Castle of his^

Race, was vacant forever.

Even resting

rim of the cup, he

as his lip touched the golden

Brother's

feet, his face

by

pressed against the marble

he

nor did his eyes

fell,

No

one convulsive tremor.

his side, without

his lips, as

and glare, as

roll

fell

floor,

dead

at his

and his hands

groan came from if

struggling, with

He touched the cup— he fell. That was all. Every When old Ralph came to him, thinking that he had fallen

the night of death.

eye beheld into a

it.

swoon, and

tried to raise

him from the floor, the body slipt from wood or stone. The gray-haired knight face was seen by every eye. There was

his grasp like a pulseless thing of

turned him to the light, and his

no blackness on

it,

but a rosy blush pervaded the cheeks, and the eyes,

fixed but not glassy, lay dull

and leaden, under the half-shut

He

lids.

— the wine, mingled with the scent of laurel blossoms — pervaded

The golden cup

was dead.

perfume of old

lay near him, and a strong odour,

like

the Hall of Palestine.

Never in all the world was there such a Night as this, whose every hour was marked by a Death or a Crime. The nameless wrong committed by Harry upon the Italian Sorcerer

these deeds

Randulph,

The

woman— the

murder of the old man, by the

Harry, before his brother's eyes

took place on the night, which marked the return of Lord Castle of his ancestors.

all

to the

hearts of the spectators

were too

full for

speech

gay Knights, gay no longer, looked

tival attire, the

brave Harry, in

The known

Italian

— the sudden death of

dumb

;

in the

clad in their fes-

dead face of the

apathy.

veiled lady clasped her hands, and

murmured

a prayer, in an un-

tongue while a shudder, agitated her beautiful shape, from head

to

foot.

Lord Ranulph stood

for a

moment, horror-stricken and spell-bound

like

:

494

PAUL ARDENHEIM;

the rest, his gaze fixed

upon the

OR,

face of his dead brother, while his broad

high forehead was darkened by a single vein, swelling upward, from be-

tween the eyebrows.

At

broke over his face; a smile

smile

last a

sad as a star-beam twinkling through the gloom of a charnel

"He

is

dead

My

!

Brother?" he said

died of a strange disease of which

I

He A

subdued tone: "

in a

have heard

in foreign lands.

ease that turns the avenues of the heart to bone, while the cheek

of

*Slowly,

life.

through the course of long years,

silently,

builds up the channels of the heart, until at last,

makes the blood bound

tion,

throbs no longer, and

died of joy

He

life

knelt beside his

A

terrible

disease,

was too strong

And

these are the deeds

who have

brother

!

—

a right strong smell of laurel

soul !"

which took place on the

which

night,

And

I,

when Lord Ra-

Eustace Brynne,

intended to be deposited in the

is

Mount Sepulchre, do hereby avow, on mine own knowledge,

spoken, on that all

for

the Castle of his fathers.

to

that these are the deeds

And

my

by

written this history,

archives of

My poor

:

by the Mass, and

leaves, or laurel blossoms,

nulph came home

done,' the heart

is

him A terrible disease !" dead brother, while old Ralph of Grey-Wolf mut-

tered with an idiotic stare

"

full

is

this disease

when some sudden emowork

passes away, without a sigh.

the emotion

;

like a torrent, 'the

has dis-

which were done, and these the words which were

fatal night.

other histories of that night, and

this chronicle are lies,

all

rumors which

conflict with

born of the Devil and the Pope, and uttered by

their minions, in order to taint the

good fame of the House of Mount Se-

may

be known, and branded forever, with

pulchre.

So

that their lies

their proper infamy, I will here,

add certain of the rumors, which have

been raised by the Pope and the Devil aforesaid, against the House of

Mount Sepulchre. That the Italian magician, and

I.

In support of this

person.

rumor

my Lord Rannlph is stated, that my

it

studied the black art in outlandish parts, and

Harry, disguised

in his Sorcerer's robes,

Lord Harry, who besought him ardently

him some lead

turn his

own

eyes,

how

to

into gold straightway.

the

young Lord bore

came

to

ivere the

same

Lord Ranulph

the Court of

King

and was there encountered by

come

to

Mount Sepulchre, and

Ranulph wishing

to

see with

himself, to his Father and to the

vassals of the Barony, accepted the proposal of Baron Harry, and

came

the Castle, with his outlandish wife, disguised as a page, having at the

to

same

*

time, the letter of the

An

anachronism?

circulation of the blood

King about

Had Lord Ranulph ?

his person.

of

This

is

a

most

atro-

Mount Sepulchre, any idea of

the

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. .

Were

cious falsehood.

be forced

to

it

to

495

be believed, only for a moment,

we should

regard Lord Harry, as the wronger of his brother's wife or

mistress, and

Lord Ranulph

as the

Murderer of

his Father.

"FL; a fiend-

calumny.

ish

II. That the death of Lady Eola, which took place on the Twelfth of November, 1539, (something more than a year after the events recorded,

Lord and Husband, Ranulph of Mount Sepulch re, because he ic as poisoned with the thought, that the child sleeping upon her bosom was not ***'****. This is indeed a lie worthy of Satan or the Pope. In order that future generations may know as aforesaid,) ivas the ivork of her true

the truth of this matter,

now

but

tery,

Chronicle,

I,

Eustace Brynne, sometime Prior of the Monas-

a true believer in

at the

command

our gracious King, have written

of the noble Lord Ranulph of

this

Mount Sepulchre.

the Manuscript, written by the Monk of the Sixteenth was connected with other Manuscripts, written by various hands, and narrating the history of the House of Mount Sepulchre from

Thus ended

Century.

age

It

to age, until the

middle of the Eighteenth Century.

But the beautiful reader had not courage Manuscripts floor, the

fell

from her stiffening

fingers,

to

The mass

proceed.

and as they

fluttered

to

of the

harsh sound disturbed the breathless stillness of the place.

CHAPTER FORTY-FIRST.

•

WHAT PAUL BEHELD

IN

THE SEALED CHAMBER.

The Father murdered by his OAvn child, by the brother, and the beautiful woman sacrificed A maze of misery and crime! It is indeed ternameless outrage. the very paper on which these deeds are written, breathes of ihe

"It

is

too horrible for belief!

the brother poisoned

by

a

rible

—

charnel.

me.

You do

But Paul, you turn your gaze away.

Tell me,

I

beseech you, what has

this Revelation

not look upon

to

do with your

fate."

And

the beautiful

woman, whose

death-like cheek contrasted with her

raven hair, gave a wierd and spiritual loveliness

long ago

to that face, not

so ripe with passion, glided over the floor, with noiseless steps, and laid

her hands upon the shoulders of Paul Ardenheim.

He

He

stood motionless, his averted face buried in his hands. I

felt

her

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

496

upon

touch, but did not turn and look

Chamber

Sealed

the

those embodied

— revelations

in the

Manuscripts

stifling horror.

" Paul !" she whispered

The

courage.

Tell

Paul.

—"

I

her, for the

— now clouded

the secret of this

"Read on," muttered

Paul,

my

chills

still

voice

— yours — persuaded

the forbidden chamber.

Read on

in,

a

have not the

I

;

Speak

blood.

hiding his face in his hands

portion of the madness which has cursed

when your

whole being with

mystery."

on, and learn the history of our race, and drink

hour,

his

dare not read farther

very touch of those pages

me

nameless revelations of

even more dark and harrowing than

me,

to

— "Read

with every page, some

my

existence, since the fatal

me

to

cross the threshold of

!"

Do you reproach me, Paul ?" whispered the Wizard's child. He turned and confronted her, grasping her wrist, while the

"

upon "

so

his

Reproach you

much

No

!

!

No

!

For

so

much sorcery

witchcraft in your tone, that even now, as

once conscious of your presence and of that for

you

from you

He

would

I

would

I

at

my

immortal soul,

father's

— mad —

my own

there

I

dark

fate, it

in

—yes —

at

seems

to

at

me,

a word, a look

now

before, but

his

pale face and

His wild reproaches,

this

settled

beautiful

wandering ejacu-

his

eyes rolling vaguely, his cheeks flushed with passion

this

your look,

gray hairs into dust!"

she could have borne, and borne with a secret triumph

madness,

is

stand before you,

once fixed and dazzling, overwhelmed

with a freezing awe.

lations, his

my

sacrifice

strike

had been wild,

tone, his look

woman

light fell

ashen and colorless visage.

— but

—

all

these

this

calm

conscious despair, palsied every vein with the leaden apathy

of terror.

"Take up his hand, as

the dark record, once more," he exclaimed, while she

clasped her wrist, grow cold as ice:

it

of the charnel fright you,

your soul

afraid.

steep your soul in

Mount Sepulchre,

let

not the atmosphere of unnatural crimes

Read on! Learn the every damning detail.

felt

" Let not the breath

history of our

make

Race by heart;

Learn how Lord Ranulph of

stained with the blood of father and brother, crept be-

hind the chair of his beautiful wife, and sheathed his dagger in her bosom,

even as her babe was sleeping there. Learn how the man who had stabbed his father, and poisoned his brother became the Assassin of the

woman, whose

love and

life

had been mingled with his in the veins of

Nay, do not tremble and turn pale you have asked of me, the Secret of the Sealed Chamber; I will tell that secret, although every word costs me an agony, deeper than the tortures of the damned." that innocent child.

He

paused

beautiful

"

The

for a

;

moment, and passed

his

hand over

his forehead

;

the

woman

shuddered as she beheld the expression of his features. The blood that flowed in its veins, was child was not his own.

poisoned in

its

every throb, by his brother's unnatural crime.

Thoughts

I

a

MONK OF THE W1SSAHIKON

THE; like these

suspicion. at least,

497

cankered the soul of Ranulph; his heart became corroded by Therefore, he stabbed his wife

had been no partner

stabbed the pure

;

in his brother's

child smiled in his face from her mangled bosom.

woman, who

She was dead

wrong.

the

;

But the history of our

Race does not end here. That child grew to manhood, and became the Lord of Mount Sepulchre. He, too, became a father: and he, like his Since that hour, through the Grandsire, died by the hand of his son.

Mount

course of two hundred years, there have been eight Lords of

Se-

pulchre, and every one has gone to his grave a Parricide, slain by the

You will say that there is madness lurking in moment of birth; you will attempt to explain this red

hand of Parricide.

our

blood, from the

his-

tory of unnatural murder,

by the idea of

a constitutional malady, trans-

mitted from father to son, for two hundred years.

But no! no!

yon crossed the forbidden threshold, and seen what to face

with Fate, as

stood, hollow

I

words

I

saw, and stood

like these could

Had f;ice

never pass

your lips."

Your words fill me with horror beyond the power of utter"Paul ance " cried the Wizard's child, attempting to free her wrist from the clasp !

of his icy hand.

Read on

Take up

!

discover, that

my

You

the blood-red record once more.

father, the

younger son of

this

will there

accursed House, soon

which took place not more than twenty years ago, Old World, and bury himself and his children in He was resolved to save me, his the profound solitudes of the New. after the last Parricide,

determined

to leave the

only son, from the curse of our house.

Therefore, he renounced the'

No human eye human eye recognized in the pale old man of Wissahikon,the Last Lord of Mount Sepulchre. He had defied fate he had The hand of his Son should never be stained with the evaded destiny. world, gave up his very name, and crossed the Ocean.

tracked his course, no

;

guilt of Parricide.

This was

his thought;

a thought

which breathed a

blessing on his solitude, and turned the wild Wlssahikon into the very

Now

garden of God.

woven

mark

day, not in an hour, but a

the sequel.

All his plans

together through the years of a life-time

woman !" He fixed upon

in a

moment.

—were

Scattered to

—elaborated and crushed, not in a

air,

by the breath of s

the

Wizard's daughter the

light of his eyes, flashing

with scorn, and every lineament of his face was agitated by a smile, smile which was Satanic in

"A woman!" life-time."-

" Nay, you must listen. all

in

My

"

Her breath destroyed the Hopes of

a

mockery. father

his wanderings.

whose door was marked with

Son should never know

—

very mockery of joy.

he repeated;

Again he smiled

Sepulchre, in ber,

its

had preserved that Record of Mount

He had a cross.

concealed It

was

it

his

within the chamthought, that his

the history of the parricidal race, until the Father.

—

PAUL ARDENHEIM

493

was

And even

dust.

then, this

OR

;

Son could not be won from

his seclusion,

by the temptations of rank and power, for the name of Mount Sepulchre had long ceased to the title of his Kace. It was the into the great world,

name which our house had borne hundred years

for a

in ages past, but

it

had been replaced,

by other names and more swelling

at least,

titles.

Therefore, Paul, the son, reading that Chronicle after the death of ins Father, would not dream that his Race, or their once

He would

had an existence any longer.

Mount Sepulchres

of the

that

;

immense possessions^

only know, that he was the

he was buried

Last

Wissahi-

in the forests of

kon and that the once boundless domains of his fathers, their Castles in England and Germany, their gold counted by millions, and their broad lands measured by leagues ruined Block all were now embodied in the ;

—

—

House of Wissahikon. That the great name of the Race, their fame ennobled by titles only second to Royally, had dwindled down into the name " of the friendless boy Paul Ardenheim !'

—

Again he paused

'

—looked sadly

in

her face

— while

her eyes brightened

with a Thought which she dared not speak. " His race may exist at this hour, in all their wealth and power.

An-

may count his gold, and wear his titles, while the true Lord remains unknown and friendless among these forests." And as Paul stood gazing in her face, his death-cold hand upon her other

wrist

—

—

the music from the

lawn came gushing through the window,

like

the joyous peal of a Bridal Festival.

"

Read

pause.

Then you

chamber; but the I

woman!" Paul know something of

continued, after a breathless

that record, beautiful

"

spent there

—

will

full

mystery

—

never

tell

may

I

the mysteries of that fatal

the complete history of the to

within that Sealed Chamber, which

I

mortal

!

There,

— ente maddened me —

with Ranulph of Mount Sepulchre,

to face

hour which

listen

had entered by a Perjury

because the sorcery of your eyes and voice had stood face

But

ears.

there,

who

I

lived three hun-

dred years ago." " Ranulph of

Mount Sepulchre

!

This

is

:lasped her wrist, had changed from ice to "

—

was not a Corpse which touched me with its hand it was not like Samuel of old, which conv

It

a Spirit

evoked from the Sepulchre,

it

The hand which

stood face to face with him, and looked into his eyes, and heard his

I

voice.

with

a dream !"

fire.

me

as

seemed

I

to

stood enveloped in the horrors of that forbidden place.

me, as

if I

Even now, my

living Soul.

remembrance of

But

stood in the presence of a Corpse, animated by

a

heart writhes and grows cold at the mere

that hour."

As though the memory of that incredible interview, had transformed him into the very image which his imagination pictured a dead bod// Paul Ardenheim paused, his lips moved !>;u living Soul, dinct with

—

fib

framed no sound

;

his

form was motionless,

his face

without

life

or color

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. bis eyes alone, shining with intense light, told that the

49 J (

still

lingered

so imposing in her voluptuous beauty, this

incarna-

life

in his breast.

And

the

Woman

tion of all that

lovely or bewitching,

is

ture, this creature

among

the forms of external na-

whose touch was madness, whose

kiss kindled every

throb into living flame, whose glance paralyzed the reason, or only roused it

into frenzied action,

breast, as if to

him through At

this

like in

meshes of her unbound

moment she looked

form and

stature,

one hand placed upon her

lip,

hair.

like Esther, beautiful

and voluptuous, queen-

and yet with an unutterable

every vein, from her heart sioned Jewess,

shrank with terror from the face of

on her dewy

finger

throbbings, she retreated a step, and gazed upon

still its

the

— even She

Her

Paul Ardenheim.

to

fear,

creeping through

Yes, she seemed like the impas-

her eyes.

summoned suddenly from

of her luxurious

the silence

chamber, by the death-shrieks of her murdered People, or by the blind anger of her Monarch-Husband. " Paul you spoke with Ranulph

who

lived three

hundred years ago,"

she exclaimed after a pause, and her low voice, resounded through every

nook of

the

still

chamber

"

:

You

stood face to face with this living Soul,

enshrined within the breast of a Corpse

?

was a dream Paul, only

It

Your imagination was

dream, believe me.

a

excited to madness, by the

revelations of this manuscript."

Paul fixed upon her a vacant gaze, which looked into her eyes, without

seeming conscious of her presence. "

I

crossed the threshold, and

at

once

nous radiance, which shone around the

my fatal

that radiance appeared the corpse-like form,

was drowned

light

chamber.

in a lumi-

In the centre of

and from the dead

eyes gazed upon me, and at the same time,

filled the

face, the

place with light,

unlike the rays of sun, or moon, or star, but resembling the pale radiance

which

me;

flutters

over the graves of the newly-buried dead.

move, there was no sound, and yet

his lips did not

seemed, as though that Soul, enshrined

in

I

And he spoke

heard his voice.

to It

breast of a Corpse, con-

the

versed with mine, in the language of the other World, without one accent or syllable of mortal speech. tried to ality, as

hug

that idea to

Was

this a

dream

soul, but in vain.

cold and palpable, as that which thrills

?

Oftentimes

I

have

was no dream, but rethrough your frame, when

It

first

time, encounters the dead face of a beloved one."

Do you remember

the words, Paul ?" faltered the Wizard's daughter.

your hand, for the "

my

" Could you look

upon

my

heart, after death,

you would behold those

—

words written there yes, stamped upon my very being. 'Until the last descendant of that incestuous Child is swept from the

am condemned to live. From the hour, when bosom of Eola, until this moment, when I stand face

earth, I

the

Paul Ardenheim,

I

my

hand, smote

to face,

have walked beside the Lords of your

with you,

race,

and

in-

•

; a

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR

300

my

One by one by the hand of the Parricide son it was my Soul, that prompted every murder; it was I, that nerved every arm, and I in spite of all my Remorse have stood smiling, while Parricide after Parricide, was gathered to the grave-yard dust. 'Think not to escape me, Paul of Ardenheim, in whose soul I recognize some portion of my own. Your father has traversed half the globe; he has forsaken the wealth, the honor of his race he has reared you fused the poison of

they have died

accused existence, into their being.

the Parricide father

;

—

—

;

from the world, reared you

afar

in ignorance of

your

race,

your fortunes,

Ranulph of Mount Sepulchre have been near you, from the hour of birth have watched every moment of your existence have loved you, as I saw your Mind grow into shape and

and your very Name.

But

I,

;

;

power, and

at

the appointed time,

I

will nerve

your arm,

deed of

for the

Parricide. f

'

When

the hour

Because

comes your Father

have looked upon your

I

by your hand.

will die

with love, because

life

I

have been

somewhat won from the cold horror of my existence, by the spectacle of a heart, so young and brave as yours, nurtured into vigor, even amid these virgin solitudes, do not think that my arm can spare, or my soul relent. '

can never

I

know

the blessing of Death, until

the incestuous Child, even the child of Eola, are

— — of

all

all

the race of

swept from the face of

the earth.

When

'

'

It

the last

is

dead, then, and then only,

sometimes,

true, that

is

hope has dawned upon

my

—

after

From

soul.

I

can

die.

long intervals of hopeless Evil a

—

woman, descendant from Eola,

mind and form, I may obtain the blessed words, which die. Those words, nothing more, than the last acaccents which will assure me, that she, cents, which fell from her lips no willing partner in my brother's crime, and that the child which slept

and

like

Eola

will permit

in

me

to

—

;

upon her bosom,

Woman

this

as

I

killed

her, derived

its

life,

my

from

veins.

Yet

cannot appear, until the eighth Lord of your race, has fallen

by the blow of Parricide. And she must wear upon her bosom, a Medal, which I hung around the neck of my dead wife, and buried with her a medal, which I had precorse, on the Twelfth of November, 1539 pared in anticipation of her death, bearing her name, the date of her mur;

and the sign of the Cross. This medal, or this embodied record of

der, '

years ago

— saw

of a beautiful ration

it

my

crime,

for the first time, since Eola's death

woman.

But

was not yet dead. beautiful

saw twenty-one the breast

the Eighth Lord, the head of the eighth gene-

With

the consciousness that this medal,

once, the token of past crime and future forgiveness, ihe neck of the

I

— and upon I

replaced

woman, descended from Eola, and

peared

:

was

his face

—"You

— of

Man

!

race and

You

are

—

unworthy of

you have yielded yourself a willing victim to the very abhor, and— it is enough to bring a smile to a cheek Father !' you have called this Demon by the name of of marble " Woman You blaspheme the dead !" cried Paul in a voice hoarse with agony, and yet her words penetrated his soul, and overwhelmed with your Destiny,

for

Demon whom you

—

!

a Conviction which he could neither banish nor confute.

—

'

«

— THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. "

I

will not, I dare not think

!"

it

507

he cried, wringing his hands

very

in

frenzy, as a flood of memories, swept over him, bewildering every faculty,

with their confused voices

My

"

:

No — no — by

chre the same?

His voice rising with

all

my

immortal soul

the emphasis of despair, mingled with the

%dv, which burst gay and thrilling through the curtained window. He buried his face in his hands for a moment, and then started the mirror with outstretched

"Away!" ruin.

Evil

he gasped

arms and distorted features

—"Thou

Thine eyes looked Death

— Remorse — Despair

My

!

art the

into

my

father

troubled slumber of the grave, and left to

—no!

"

blasphemous

It is false, it is

Ranulph of Mount Sepul-

father and

the salvation of

I

Thy

is

dead

am

left

voice whispered

very presence breathes

my

;

toward

:

Thy

Demon.

soul.

me-

sister sleeps the

un-

alone upon the earth, but

work out a solemn duty, which permits no communion with

Away

passions or hatreds of mankind.

—

the

hate thee !"

I

His hands grasped the mirror, as he sought madly

for the secret spring,

while his face was turned over his shoulder.

"Hate

thee! Dost read

beautiful as thee,

it

who wrecked

in

my

the

life

'Twas

eyes?

despair, for the brutal appetite of his Brother

And he sought for the The beautiful woman, his reproaches,

a

Woman

base and

of Ranulph, and bartered his eternal !

Away

Thou

Eola

!"

She did not reply

to

!

art

secret spring with trembling hands.

glided calmly to his side.

nor return him scorn for scorn. Her eyes were downcast;

her face and bosom hidden in the folds of her luxuriant hair. "

You

"Behold

will leave !

The door

me, Paul," she whispered, extending her hands is

open.

her voice — "

Your way

is free.

And

yet

— " there was

would not part in anger." own, as it sought for the secret spring. She was by his side the hair which shadowed her face, waved against his breast, swayed by the breeze which came through the opened door, and

a tremor in

Her hand had touched

I

his

;

gave him a glimpse of her faultless throat, and one white gleam of her He could not see her face it was lost in shadow. But panting bosom. ;

upon

a tear glittered

voice die

away

Paul began

in

to

that

gleam of the snowy

tremble

;

and he heard her

he was ice and flame by turns

moment, ere he and shadow of Night.

the threshold, yet he lingered one

went

breast,

an inarticulate murmur.

forth into the silence

left

;

his foot

was on

her Presence and

i

— !

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

508

CHAPTER FORTY-SECOND. " TO NIGHT

I

AM TO BE MARRIED, PAUL."

One moment It passes ere the pen can write the letters, and may come and go, within its compass. One moment It may be, only the last pebble which tops the pyramid, or the !

yet ages

of Thought

which "

pivot on

a world spins round.

Go

forth," she faltered, "

She touched

his hand,

But not

in

anger."

and clasped his fingers with an almost imper-

ceptible pressure.

Paul's face was no longer wild and distorted

was subdued by

a

vague melancholy, but his heart beat tumultuously, and he was forced

to

;

it

lean for support against the frame of the secret door.

A

breathless pause ensued, while she stood near him, her face in sha-

dow, while her hand gently touched his own. The door was free. Beyond was the darkness and silence of night; here Paradise, made beautiful by Eve. Paul lingered

Where was

the anger,

which had swelled

burning accents from his tongue

She raised her dark hair

;

face,

and looked

moved

her lips

his heart,

at

him

"Tonight," she murmured,

Her

I

am

breast

to

in

silently through the intervals of her

as if in the effort to speak, but without a

and then she stretched forth her arms, and sank upon

"To-night

and quivered

?

sound

;

his breast.

as she buried her face

upon

his

bosom.

be married Paul."

was throbbing against his heart; her arms were round his waved over his arms and shoulders. It was as though

neck, her hair

Hquid

He

had been poured into his veins.

fire

gathered her form

to

breast with one arm, and closed the secret door with the other.

mirror in his face,

its

his

The

place once more, reflected her head pillowed on his breast;

glowing with the

fire

and quivering with the tumult of a sudden

rapture.

" Married !" he echoed, and white couch,

among

its

snowy

— looking

over her shoulder, he saw the

curtains, and

knew

at

once that he beheld

the Bridal Bed.

He was

lost

in

a tumult of conflicting emotions

;

he was

mad

with

boundless joy. "

Thou

wilt be

my

wilt take the nameless

wife !" he gasped, "

wanderer

to

Thou

so young and beautiful,

thy arms !" S

— THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. The dim

509

luxurious light of that silent chamber, the pictures glowing

from the walls, the statues gleaming from each shadowy recess, the music bursting in merry peals, through the window, the Bridal Bed, enshrined in twilight, all these

clung

conspired

to

inflame his senses, but the

bosom

neck, and suffered her

to his

Woman who

to beat against his breast,

com-

pleted his delirium.

"

My

"Forme

wife!" he cried,

me

peals of marriage music, for

Bed

riage

It

!

much

too

is

— my

me

these marriage guests, for

brain

these

room, made sacred by the Mar-

this silent

mad.

is

For me the wanderer

without a name, the outcast without one rood of land, with no heritage but Poverty and Despair."

And

came over

then the Thought

had discovered

his real

Name

wealth of his race, and planned

beautiful

his soul, that this

had found the clue

;

the

to

woman and the

tide

scene as a merry surprise, for him

this

her Husband. "

or

me the secret of this mystery with thy lips ripe with me with thine eyes. Nay be silent. Do not speak, grow mad indeed. Thy heart beating against mine own, speaks

Speak

passion. shall

1

Tell

!

Tell

it

to

which needs no words to be understood." She gently unwound her arms from his neck, and removed

a language

from her waist, and stood before him, radiant, glowing

— with

all

his

hand

her love-

liness about her like a veil

"

We

you. is

—

love you Paul," she whispered

I

between each word

— and took

will love

ness clouds your soul. there

is

"Never can

:

we

are dead.

together.

In

for

But Paul,

I

will

I

I

you, in

am

all

pause

the world, there

all

We

moment

the world,

a

any one but

love

be near you,

cheer you in the

will

I

no resting-place

your head.

measured voice, with

in a

linked with mine, but you.

is

power

the heighths of fame and

pillow

hand

each other until

no man, whose destiny

When

his

will clknb

when

dark-

of Despair.

my bosom

shall

be married to-night, but not to

to

you."

seemed

It

room, the

to

him, that he was cursed with sudden blindness.

lights, the

Marriage Bed, and the voluptuous form,

His brain

in thick darkness.

death bells in his ears

"

I

am

to

;

swam

he was

at

;

he heard sounds

once blind,

be married to-night, but not

These words he heard

;

you

to

all

were

The lost

like the ringing of

mad and dumb. !"

they sounded again, and again

;

they mingled

with the tolling of the death-bells.

There was still in

by

the

a long pause, ere he saw clearly again, and tound himself room, the Marriage Bed before him, and the beautiful woman

his side.

" Pity

me!" he

faltered

—

"

I

am

in a

myself beside the Wissahikon, with a fearful dream.

If

I

dream. Soon

I will

the moonlight on

do not soon awake

1

whl die."

my

awake, and face.

Yet

fin

I

it is

—

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR

510 Rising to her her face, **

Married

married.

sence of Heaven,

speak

The

A

history

intricate

the Wissahikon,

nay

shut up in the Rich Man's coffers,

My

house of 'Law.'

auction of Marriage

;

my

the creditor of

my

Death

or

and long, but

father in his

body, Paul,

be

to

will

I

power

;

is

the externals of wealth,

all

Priest, to

father will purchase

That

!

at least

me,

father, are

and frozen in the charnel

be sold

to

my

very liberty of

— coffined

by the

sold

the

to-night, in

the

pay the debt of

and secure his gray hairs from the ignominy of the Soul, Paul, the Soul

am

hollow and fantastic as the gold of

is

This mansion, adorned with

by

these lands

I

shines brightly, but turns to withered leaves, be-

it

;

is

Rich man has

wealth which you behold,

your eyes.

To-night

real, terribly real.

Wealth, joined in solemn vows, uttered in the pre-

Gold.

to

the Arabian legend fore

to

— but calm and pale as Death.

It is

Paul, in few words.

it

all this

beautiful

no dream, Paul.

It is

she swept her dark hair aside, and revealed

full stature,

—unutterably

solemn

my

father,

The Rich Man,

jail.

— yes, buy my body — but the

cannot be bought;

it

free, as

is

air

!"

As the first man in Eden, suddenly awoke from dream of innocence, and found himself naked and was ashamed, so

Paul did not answer. his

Paul Ardenheim, started up from his wild dreams, and found himself

Poor.

Poor

The Woman whom he worshipped

!

have bartered

his Soul

— was

—

whom

for

he

would

be sold, into the arms of sanctified

to

lust,

some thousands of round and bright and beautiful doubCould he redeem her body from this unCould he save her

for the price of

loons.

holy

!

traffic

The

could not of the

agonies

—

bells

sounded

in his ears

call

one piece of gold his own.

damned, are sometimes written

" I am poor." Come," he muttered,

syllables

"

He

?

as the

—" We

hill-side, will give us shelter.

He was in

room swam round him, and

Some

will leave this place.

Our

souls are rich,

Poor.

those three

the death-

cabin by a

what need we care

for

body and damns the Soul ?" His eye was vague and wandering; his accents broken and faint; he spoke like a man half roused from some horrible dream. " Love in a cottage !" she whispered, while her face was radiant with the

Gold

that

pampers

the

which gave a Satanic lustre Wouldst not mad enough for that.

that laughter of scorn,

Paul.

We

are

face of a Child,

and

Poverty upon

brow

its

feel that ?

thou hadst given

The Leper

it

to

its

like to

beauty.

" No,

gaze upon the

being, with the curse of

of old, had no right

to

love or marry;

Leprosy which poisoned his blood, he might bear in the silence of despair; it was a sin darker than Parricide, to communicate that Plague Which is most fearful Paul, the Leprosy which to the veins of a Child. the

corrodes the blood, or the Poverty which

one hideous ulcer ?"

transforms

body and

soul, into

—

THE MONK OF THE VVISSAHIKON. Paul was

but the blindness had passed

still silent,

and deep again

clear

was possessed by

his Soul

;

511

away;

his eyes

shone

a fixed and irrevocable

Resolve

To

11

night

am

I

be married, Paul.

to

window words which make

through the

sic peals

repeat the

The

!

Hark

How

!

the marriage mu-

Priest will say his Prayer, or rather,

The

the sale complete.

guests will throng

around the Bride, and while the Rich Man, contemplates

Purchase,

his

they will prepare Her, for the consecrated orgies of the Marriage Couch.

This

is all fair

is it

;

buys a

thing,

— has

he not

eyes

"Suppose

:

Woman

not

and gives

But hold

?

Legal, too, aye and Religious

?

his gold for

— " she

the thing that

it,

he has a right

use

to

When

?

it

as

a

Man

he pleases

grasped his hand, and looked into his sold, has a Soul

is

—

a Will.

Suppose

the

bought with Gold, meets her Buyer on the threshold of the Bridal

Chamber, and taught by

own Golden 4

his

Rule,' whispers in his ear

Husband by law, but Another has married the Soul. Soul and body, are not to be separated I am fearful, Husband by law, that you cannot enjoy the one, without the possession of the other. You have bought the body with your gold Husband by law, that gold is now your Curse. For with that gold, I will raise the Husband of my soul, to rank and power aye with your gold, I will unloose the pri-

'You have purchased

the body,

:

;

;

son bars of Poverty, and

let

Genius spread

its

wings, and seek the Sun.

murmur, Husband by Law; before the world, I will be, your Wife. I will submit to be surveyed, by the noble and the rich, as your Purchase But the threshold of this chamber, you may never pass while there is a throb in my veins, or a Soul in my bosom you shall never mount that

Do

not

;

Bed— Husband

Bridal "

He

will be base

by law

enough,

!'

to

" hear

while his Resolve gave a terrible light

this,

and obey ?" murmured Paul,

to his eye,

an unnatural glow

to his

cheek. i4

The man who buys only purchased,

that

is

And

then Paul, do

like this ter of

?

my

When Soul.

I

I

a is

woman

with his gold, and

look like a

Woman, who

look into your eyes, Paul,

And

shall

I,

armed with

turn pale, at the cunning or the gold of the

Paul did not answer her

content, with lote

is

base enough, cowardly enough, for anything".

in

will be foiled I feel

this

you

that

by

a creature,

are the Mi

consciousness, falter and

Husband by Law?"

words, but his gaze, spoke the purpose of

She was before him, in all her transcendant loveliness, a boh] and fearless soul embodied in a voluptuous shape. His bronzed cheek was growing with a crimson flush his eyes deep and clear and yet flashing his soul.

;

as with liquid

warm

devoured

at a glance the witchcraft of her face, the

palpable beauty of her virgin form.

drew her bing

light,

in

to his breast.

And

He

extended his arms,

girdled in that arm, with

all

her bosom, and throbbing against his breast, she

her

felt

life,

— he

throb-

his touch, as

— PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

512

hand gently parted her

his

burning, passionate,

And their

their

tresses,

— as his

mad

broken sighs

—

gaily through the curtained

And

clung

dark

attire

— and

same glow, her eyes kindling with over the arm, which held her

—her

the

snow

impassioned by the

of his gaze, her hair, streaming

fire

upon

assent

Behold our Bridal Bed." ere the kiss

lips, the

his

which answered

mirror glided silently

two forms entered the apartment, with noiseless

aside, and

pealed

to his breast.

Thou art mine," he gasped, " And noiv. And ere the words had died on his tongue, full

still

robes like the driven

their faces, both

,k

him, had sealed her

half-drowned by

Music, which

window.

the mirror reflected their forms,

floating about his

their love,

the Marriage

in

his gaze,

felt

her own.

to

low murmur of

the

mingling lips were lost

over her forehead, she

lips

Reginald of Lyndulfe, gay and magnificent

footsteps.

wedding

in his

attire,

with

the pale face of Rolof Sener, smiling coldly over his shoulder. "

Leola

" Save

!"

me

cried the voice of Reginald.

Reginald save

!

me

!"

cried the beautiful

—

from the arms of Paul " Save me from And Paul turned and saw her clinging

stamped with

terror

— aye

with hatred

woman,

springing

this villian !" to the

—-turned

neck of Reginald, her

face,

toward him, while the pale

visage of Rolof Sener, smiled coldly at his side.

CHAPTER FORTY-THIRD. LEOLA, PAUL AND REGINALD. " Save

me from

this villian

He

!

entered

my

door, he assailed with threats, aye with violence

and more than

And

the

life

—my honor

chamber, by that secret !

He

assailed ray

life

!"

Wizard's Daughter clung, frightened and pale

to

the neck of

Reginald.

Paul was dumb.

Ardenheim that I behold. It some resemblance to the noble

»*

It is

not Paul

ard,

who

bearing

and name.

It is

not

—

it

is

some miserable cow-

Paul, has stolen his dress

cannot be Paul Ardenheim."

Reginald's cheek was flushed, his blue eyes flashing with concentrated rage, but his tone

was calm and measured,

in its

very mockery of doubt.

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHlkON. And

spoke he took the hands which encircled

as he

them gently,

at the

same

513

his neck,

and pressed

time, gathering all the sweetness of her volup-

tuous mouth, in a long and passionate kiss.

Paul was dumb.

Rolof Sener, who stood near the mirror, with folded arms, surveyed the three, with his cold and passionless

man, clinging

Here

smile.

neck of Reginald, arrayed

the

to

in

wo-

the beautiful

wedding dress

his

;

there Paul Ardenheim, standing alone, his arms hanging bf his side, his

and leaden

face colorless

"

Had

to think of

!"

it

room,

By Heaven,

later

and Reginald gazed fondly "

Wizard's daughter. this

as the visage of death.

been a moment

I

to find

you

Only

my

a

moment

makes

it

— tenderly —

later,

and

my

blood boil

in the face of the

should have entered

I

Leola, dishonored and a corpse."

Again he clasped her hands, and pressed a kiss upon her

lips.

Paul was dumb. Rolof Sener's sunken eyes began

to flash

with peculiar

light,

and the

icy smile played around his pale thin lips, but he did not speak.

" One moment, love," whispered Reginald, and he unwound the arms

woman, "I

of the beautiful

name and into her

eyes

every thing

—

" the guests

are waiting for

glimmered from

light,

"Leola

!"

mystery of passed his

us in

the

rushed

to

the color

;

his

he gasped, and with "the utterance of that scene,

this

lips

was revealed

he was pale and

stood face to face with Paul.

The muscular

cheek, and a

his

bloodshot eyes.

to

dumb

name,

fatal

When

his soul.

all

the

word had

the

again.

Reginald resigned the arm of Leola, and crossed the

contrast.

gazed fondly

room below, and

prepared for our Marriage."

is

Paul's chest began to heave

deadly

who — " he

has assumed the

will punish this villian,

dress of Paul Ardenheim, and then Leola

floor, until

he

Rolof Sener smiled as he remarked the

Monk

yet graceful form of the

clad in the garb of a Heidelberg Student

;

a garb

of Wissahikon.

worn with

bearing in every detail, the unmistakable indications of Poverty

travel, :

the

and

mus-

cular and military figure of the Lord, attired in the costume of a wealthy

gentleman, on the eve of marriage

the

hand of

his valet,

relieved with

dark

hair,

a

;

and eloquent of Gold.

vith jewels,

its

costume of

and carefully dressed

powdered

silk

and velvet, adorned

Reginald's chesnut hair, touched by after the fashion

locks, his clear blonde

flowed wildly aside from his

bfWze

of the time,

complexion; Paul's

visage, and only

made

cheek seem paler, his eyes more intensely bright. This was the contrast which fixed the icy smile on Rolof Sener's

"As "

regards brute strength, they

Only Paul seems

seem

fairly

33

lips.

matched," he muttered,

palsied in every nerve, while Reginald

ever, with settled rage."

his

is

stronger than

PAUL ARDENHEIM;

514

OR,

Leola clasped her hands, and awaited the issue, without the power stir

to

from the spot where she stood.

Reginald stood face

with Paul, and surveyed him from head

to face

with a glance of overwhelming scorn.

foot,

Paul returned his

to

with

ga'ze,

For a moment neither spoke; the color went and came on Paul's bronzed cheek now he was panting and gasp-

a vacant and apathetic stare.

;

ing as

and

if for life,

nald's cheek

At

hate.

giowed

pale and immovable as the dead; while Regi-

one scarlet

into

flush,

and his eyes shone with

settled

he broke the stillness

last

" Paul Ardenheim

though

teeth, as

now

it

!"

name through

he whispered, hissing that

was

itself the

in

bitterest scorn, that his

his

set

rage could

utter.

Paul did not answer " Speak

!

basest apology, and hurl

—

not

move

I

—

was

his eyes

upon

fixed

the lamest excuse;

will listen patiently.

In a

the floor.

frame but the

moment my

servants will

room and scourge you from the house. Speak with patience am I not? What means your presence

you from

waiting

— did

Speak Paul! Make but this

—

I

!

in

am this

chamber ?" Reginald bent forward as he spoke, until his breath inflamed by rage, fanned the very cheek of the

Monk

of Wissahikon.

Paul stood motionless and dumb, with his eyes cast

Rolof Sener smiled for Leola,

his icy smile, as

with her ringer pressed upon her bloodless

frame quivering like a

about

tigress,

to the floor.

he stood beside the mirror.

to dart

upon

prey, she

its

As

and her entire

lip,

silently

awaited the end of his tragedy.

"You

my

are

Paul," whispered Reginald, with scorn

friend,

"

look and in every accent.

vow

?"

and in no extremity

or

Do you remember

our

in

his

Paul shuddered.

"We

will be true to each other,

danger

desert

each other, but cherish forever the solemn symbol pf the Broken but not broken not divided for its seperate pieces are moved by tioo divided Coin

—

hearts, it,

joined in one byfhe holy

Brother Paul?

tie

Quite romantic

Paul raised his eyes, as

if

of Brotherhood.

Do you remember

— eh?"

about

to

speak, and at the

same moment

Leola started one step forward, and her gaze encountered the eyes of the

Monk

of Wissahikon.

felt it to

again.

That look was unperceived by Reginald. Paul glowed into life

the inmost core of his heart, and his pale face,

Rolof saw

it

was embodied

was

was madness.

entreaty,

it

No words

and smiled.

being of Leola,

proper moment I will

tell

you

that -single

in

glance.

said,to Paul,

It

all

can describe

!

Spare me!

'

Spare

It

for the whole was passion, it

it,

me ! And

at the

For I am thine!"

Paul therefore,, although his heart beat madly against his breast, was silent as the dead.

"You

still

wear the Broken Coin about your heart?" cried Reginald

— THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON.

515

"And

surprise and rage, struggling for the mastery on his face:

Coin upon your

you

heart,

stole coward-like

my

tempted the dishonor of

into

with that

chamber, and

this

at-

Wife."

" Your wife !" ejaculated Paul, and then #

again that look from the

flashing eyes of Leola.

"

My

—

betrothed," answered Reginald, " In a few

you from

servants have scourged

the mansion,

moments after mark ye she will be

—

my my

wife."

Reginald placed his hand within the ruffled his silken waistcoat

and

He

of the Broken Coin. it

my

up,

Brother

his breast,

cast

It will

!

Paul trembled from head at last

unsealed his

it

and

in

at the

lace,

which

fluttered

between

an instant, drew forth his half

"Take

feet of Paul, exclaiming,

serve to remind you of our vow." to foot,

he started forward as

if

his

agony had

but looking over the shoulder of Reginald he

lips,

He was dumb once more. He knelt Broken Coin, and placed it within his garment, close

again encountered Leola's gaze.

in

silence, took the

to

his heart.

The moment

rapidly drew near,

into a tone of biting sarcasm,

was

when

Reginald's rage

burst

to

all

at first settled

bonds, and vent

itself in

loud reproaches, perchance, in dishonorable blows. «*

Thou

paltry knave !" he cried, "

and give thee

Beggar

Did

!

I

not

?

form, with the very garment, which

The cup

Did

my cup Thou share my purse with

drink of

to

it

I

to

not feed thee of

my

bread,

meditate an act like this

thee,

now wears

?

and clothe thy coward's ?"

was full. Scorned for his treachery, cowardice, and now, tainted with his Poverty.

of Paul's agony at last

insulted for his

—

"Iam

poor!" he muttered wildly, and fixed his blood-shot eyes oi\ Reginald's face, his arms quivering to the very fingers as with a spasm. Was he about to grapple with the young Lord, and trample him beneath his feet

?

Roiof Sener smiled. Leola crossed the floor with noiseless steps, and stole gently behind Reginald, winding her arms around his neck as she whispered in his ear* but at the

same

time,

gazing

steadily into the very eyes of

Paul Arden-

keim. "

Do

"Do

not be angry with the poor knave, Reginald," she whispered

not so far forget yourself as

stands near us, and

whom

I

to

strike

him.

have seen to-day before,

This gentleman who will doubtless

charge

Will you not, good Rolof ? himself with the care of the poor wretch. Thrust him forth by the secret stairway, and our guests will not be disturbed by the scandal of his presence.

And her look which

voice spoke to Reginald ."

Spare

me !

I am

For

my

sake, Reginald !"

flashed into Paul's very soul, spoke to him, as her :

thine

!

When

the time comes,

I will

tell

you alll"

—

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

516

"Away Leoia !" cried Reginald, thrusting her gently from his side: " This knave shall answer to me, and without delay. Speak, coward

!

If within

your craven form, there yet lingers one throb of manhood, speak

and answer

me

Have.you no word

!

Paul raised his form

to

full

its

to

excuse

this

outrage ?"

and surveyed Reginald with

stature,

steady look, at the same time wiping the cold sweat from his forehead.

But he did not speak. There was a spell upon

upon

his Soul.

was the Soul of Leola

It

his tongue,

upon

his blood,

flashing from her eyes.

Rolof Sener advanced; spoke a few brief words; extended

his hands,

was but the work of an instant, and yet his extended hands, placed a sword in the hands of Reginald and Paul, and the words which he had spoken were

and then retreated

full 44

to his

former position near the mirror.

It

of meaning.

Do

not forget that you are gentlemen.

peal of the Marriage Music will

The

women.

drown

There

are

The

two swords.

Leave scolding

their clashing.

outrage was attempted in this chamber, and here

it

to

must

be atoned for." Reginald surveyed his sword, with an exclamation of joy, as wild as

Paul

incoherent. the

felt

the hilt in his grasp,

saw

the sharp blade glitter in

and with an involuntary glance, measured the form of his

light,

antagonist. 44

Defend yourself

!"

cried Reginald, glowing at once with the con-

sciousness of muscular power, and with the fury of revenge

This matter can be

moment!" Demon, he could

:

44

Come

!

settled in a

Had Rolof Sener been

a

not have looked more coldly

calm, or more serenely delighted than at the present moment.

As

for Leola, like

some

beautiful Statue of Terror, she stood rooted to

the floor, her hands hanging

by her

stiffly

side, while her eyes flashed

vividly in her death-like countenance.

Paul grasped the sword, and his blood-shot eye brightened with a feroHe gazed upon the breast of Reginald, gay with marriage

cious instinct.

and seemed

attire,

to

meditate the blow, which would crimson that mar-

He had

riage attire with the Bridegroom's blood.

forgotten the

solemn

mission which forever separated him from the loves and hatreds of mankind; forgotten his dead Father, and the stern Prophecy uttered by the

Living-Corpse in the silence of the Sealed Chamber;

lie

was only con-

scious of the three-fold taunt of treachery, cowardice, and poverty.

blood bounded once more in his veins, as he felt that sword the lust of bloodshed possessed him from head to foot. grasp ;

sured his antagonist, and stood ready 44 !

ome

—

it

his discolored

is

enough

ovfb;

lis

—" he

— to

His

hilt in

his

He mea-

kill.

cried, in a voice

gave an unnatural look

almost inaudible, while to

his visage

44

Here,

beside the Bridal Bed, thou shalt die."

And

at the

same

instant, his

sword

fell

from his nerveless hand, and

:

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. He

clattered at his feet.

upon

his fallen

"

Coward nald. Thus

—

stir a

caught the gaze of Leola,

grasp— and trembling from head

his iron

—

that look unloosed

he stood gazing vacantly

sword. Said

!

to foot,

517

not so

I

—thus —

I inflict

?

He

dare not confront his Brother Regi-

upon you,

the last

shame which might even

craven into manhood."

And he

struck Paul across the shoulder with his sword

not with the

;

he would strike a man, but with the side of the blade as he would

*»dge, as

strike a dog.

Then

the smile

which had lingered about Rolof 's

lips,

mounted

to his

eyes, and radiated over his massive forehead.

— calmly, although eyes. — and looked Reginald

Paul calmly folded his arms with fearful agony

his chest

was swelling

in the

" Strike higher next time :" he quietly said, " Let the scar upon

my fore-

head, direct your aim."

The

scene which then occurred defies

power of

all

description.

as Paul, raising himself to his full stature, placed his finger

upon the

Even scar,

while a singular calmness overspread his face; even as he spoke of that scar,

which had been received

in the defence of his friend's

life,

Reginald,

man

blinded by his rage, raised the sword, and struck the defenceless

As before, he used not the edge, but the side of his blow was violent, and the scar received for Reginald,

across the forehead.

sword.

Still,

the

bled afresh.

Paul, with the blood upon his forehead, staggered to and fro for a

ment, then, conquered as

dead

man

much by

his

agony as by the^low,

fell

mo-

like a

to the floor.

His arms were outspread without with the features fixed as

if in

death,

life

or motion, and his ashen face,

was half-concealed by

his dark hair,

which was damp and matted with his blood. Reginald struck the blow, and before a moment passed, stood gazing upon the prostrate form, the sword still clenched in his right hand. Near

him Leola, without the power to speak or move, her hands clasped, and her head bowed on her breast, while Rolof Sener, in front of the mirror, looked on the scene with his

brilliant

eyes and icy smile.

For a moment, something like regret struggled with the mad anger of Reginald's face, as he surveyed that noble forehead, half-hidden by the dark hair drenched in blood.

But Rolof Sener, gliding over the

floor

with a soundless step, was

at

his side '«

R eyes

Reginald,

let

us remove the body," he whispered, in his softest tone.

sginald felt an to the floor,

Sener

told him, that

blow— but

a

unknown

fear creep through his veins

he cast his For the words of Rolof man, stunned by a sudden

and trembled in every nerve.

Corpse

he beheld not a living

—

;

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

518

He

"

is

dead," whispered Rolof, "

He

died, not so

'Twas

as from the breaking of his proud heart.

And

life ?

ter

may

lost

— quick,

Leola had

all.

But come, we

remove

will

the body, and to-morrow this mat-

be duly explained to the wedding guests.

turned

hand,

Received in your defence, when he saved

Reginald!"

Reginald wondered

He

much by your

a noble fellow, after

— eh, Reginald?

the scar

your

f

to

There

no time

is

be

hear him speak thus in the presence of Leola.

to

look upon her and mark the expression of her

Without a

swoon.

fallen in a

to

N

face, but

broken on

sigh, like a flower

stem, she had sunk insensible, her hair waving over her face as she

its

fell.

" She will not awake until we return," whispered Rolof, " tell

how we

her a merry story,

scourged the

*

And we can Monk' from her father's

grounds."

And without another word, they bore the body of Paul Ardenheim down the narrow stairway. We will not

through the secret door and

body of his grow cold as he

aver, that Reginald's hands did not tremble as he grasped the

dead

4

Brother,' nor dare

felt the

we

assert that his heart did not

dark stairway, Reginald, gazing upon the face of

light into the

— illumined

Rolof

in

every feature by that

view by the darkness of the stairway flit

But the moment before they went

head of Paul upon his breast.

from the

over his brain.

It

stamped with

thin lips

by short gray

hair,

—

light,

felt

was a remarkable

visage,

that eternal smile, with

— a single lock

falling

and thrown distinctly into

something

down

its

you

the centre

dim memory

remember,

its

—

up

its

eyes sunken

a visage

whose

complexion reminded you of the waxen face of the dead.

"I have seen

that face

among

the family portraits of our Race," the

thought flashed over the mind of the young Lord face of

will

great forehead relieved

deep, yet gleaming with dazzling lustre, and lighting colorless

like a

Ranulph-John,

who was

—" And

it

looks like the

found dead beside the dead body of

my

Grandsire."

And

thus they took the body of Paul Ardenheim from the voluptuous

light of Leola's

The

night.

upon

chamber, into the silence and darkness of the summer

marriage music which smote their ears,

his pulseless brain.

the shrubbery

And

which encircled

the light,

which came

fell

cold and dead

in fitful rays through

the opening of the secret, stairway, shone

upon his marble visage and dark hair drenched with blood. Meanwhile Leola, stretched insensible upon the floor of her Bridal Chamber, with her dark hair waving over her face, was all unconscious that the Rich Man, who had bought her with his Gold, had borne away the lifeless body of Paul, the Husband of her Soul. It was not many moments ere Reginald again stood in the secret door, gazing upon the voluptuous images of Leola's chamber, ere his footstep crossed

its

threshold.

His eye lingered

for

awhile upon the statues

gleaming from each recess, upon the pictured walls, wrapt in luxurious

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON but rested last of

light,

Then

gloom. red

519

upon was gone from

the Bridal Bed, half-hidden in twilight

all,

his face, and the smile of his gleam of his deep blue eyes, the heaving of his broad chest,

lip, the

the pallor

all

his thoughts

all told, that

had passed from the dead Paul

to

the living

The wedding

guests are

Leola.

"And

ere an hour passes, she will be mine.

now

even

waiting,

and the good Clergyman, the Reverend Jacopo

;

!

stands impatient, book in hand, and eye cast toward the floor.

And

handsome Reginald smiled

the

as he crossed the threshold, and

looked around, impatient for Leola's bewitching glance. Leola, however, had gone from the Bridal

Chamber.

Reginald's face manifested something like disappointment, but sinking

with his back

in a chair,

to the secret door,

he surrendered himself

to his

thoughts. "

She has gone

to

array herself for the marriage ceremony," he thought,

and a smile crossed his

A

good

—" The most

lips

friend, that Rolof,

my

for,when

beautiful

woman

assorted marriage, Rolof will quietly point to Jacopo, the

And he

man.

lies

Twice he saved

Wissahikon, when the huntsman's knife was the streets of London.

to

me some day You must not

for

even

Dead,

never confessed

I

as they

ever beheld! ill-

amateur clergy-

dead, out yonder, in the darkness, with his bloody fore-

head against the damp grass.

although

1

father storms and talks of an

it

now

to

I

!

my life. my throat,

Once on

the

and again in

have always had a lurking fear

myself, that the

But now he

or other.

at

is

man would

?

be dangerous

dead.*'

imagine that thoughts like these found utterance in words,

crowded upon him,

a far different language.

in all their vivid hues, his lips

spoke

/

" Leola, the beautiful !" he said, aloud, " She will be mine, ere an hour

happy together, here on the Wissahikon. He is Heaven Only a fainting fit it was a hard blow, but it But I must leave this place ha, ha It would not do could not kill. for me to be summoned to the marriage, from the Bridal Chamber, and I can enter the hall therefore, I will make my retreat by this passage. passes, and

not dead

we

door, and

tell

rose,

forward,

;

!

—

my

good

That

moonlight.

He

will be

— no by

friends, that

will do.

Pshaw

I

!

have been taking a solitary

He

!

is

and turned toward the secret doorway.

when

a

new wonder paralyzed

stroll

by

not dead !"

He made

his entire frame,

but a step

and drove the

hues of passion from his handsome cheek.

The frame

of the

doorway was occupied by

a beautiful picture.

Had

the hand of Rolof Sener stretched the canvass there, and placed before

him, this Picture which smote his heart, no less with

with

its

terrible

the Other It

was

memory

?

Or was

it

its

calm beauty than

an Apparition from the shadows of

World. the picture of a

young woman, whose brown

hair

was gathered

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

520

and glossy mass, on either side of a serenely beautiful

in a*dark

Eyes

face.

of deep and tranquil hazel lighted that face, and gave an expression

pure and virgin,

was young,

to

the

womanhood

liness of

warm cheeks and

ripe

and dewy

The form

lips.

graceful, and yet swelling in every outline with the ripe love-

— but

womanhood

that has only a

moment passed

from maidenhood into perfect bloom. It

was

a picture of Madeline.

"Madeline in

!" faltered Reginald, as the

And

then the Picture

moved from

chamber, and spread forth floated over its

blood

his cheek, and gathered

left

tumultuous throbs about his heart.

white robes, and

its

its

frame, and

came forward

into the

arms, from beneath the dark mantle which

its

fell

upon Reginald's neck with

tears in"

hazel eyes.

"It

Madeline!

is

No

more

ghost, but Madeline living, and

beautiful

!"

than ever

And he

pressed his kiss upon her

and wept upon his bosom.

It

lips,

was not

even as she clung

a Brother's kiss.

and passionate and clinging; the kiss of a Sensualist.

to his It

Then he

her face from his breast, and gazed long and ardently upon

bathed as

it

was, in tears, and held her form

at

neck,

was warm raised

beauty,

its

arm's length, and with a

womanly

She outlines. was not so queenly as Leola. There was not the witchcraft in her eyes, that gave such overwhelming power to Leola's glance. There was no wild ambition on her young brow, no daring Thought written upon the warm lineaments of her young face. She was but a Woman, with only a woman's purity and a woman's holiest instincts written upon her countenance, while Leola was a bold and fearless Spirit, embodied in a voluptuous form. And yet there was something in the very Innocence, something in the very Womanliness of Madeline, that roused the senses of the young

gaze as long and ardent, surveyed

its

ripe and

made his blood beat with a wilder throb, than ever when encompassed by Leola's surpassing loveliness.

Sensualist, and his breast

And she was

not his Sister

Catherine Conwell, the Poor

A

;

stirred

she was only Madeline, the daughter of

Woman.

thousand vague plans for the Future, already shone in Reginald's

sensual gaze, plans which rushed upon him in a flood

shapeless

—

yet

all

fraught

with danger

to

the

— vague, misty

innocence

of

and

Made-

line.

"

My

beautiful bird,"

he cried

Have you

risen from the grave, have

Madeline,

my

beautiful,

and have I found you again ? you dropped from the sky ? Tell

gaily, "

where have you buried yourself so long?

" Brother !" she answered, while something like

bosom

as she felt his ardent gaze

upon her

fear

pervaded

her

was

fear,

face; and yet

—

it

overshadowed by the very Innocence of her virgin soul " I received your letter only an hour ago. I am here to claim your promise. You

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. marriage with

in

my

pliglr.ed

Reginald did not suffer the being head,

appear

to

in

Husband, Gilbert Morgan." surprise which pervaded his

unmingled

one lineament of his handsome

— thought deeply, intensely

for a

moment

"So

my

murmured without

did Sister," he

I

You

pretty one.

He bowed

face.

his

— and then drew her gently

him, and pressed his kiss once more upon her

to

my

and that you would join

said the Past should be forgotten, Brother

hands

521

lip.

"and

raising his face,

shall be married to Gilbert.

I

vow

it

on

so

I will,

my

soul."

CHAPTER FORTY-FOURTH. MADELINE, GILBERT AND ROLOF SENER.

And

at the

same moment,

footstep echoed from

echo of the

the door of the

the secret stairway.

step, nor the

But when he raised

Reginald heard neither the

sound of the opening door.

his head,

lips curling in scorn, her

chamber was opened, and a

lie

saw Leola standing by

eyes flashing with wild light

beautiful in her Bridal Dress, with her dark hair

and a diamond Leola was

glittering

at his side,

on her proud forehea

his side, her

— Leola surpassingly

crowned with pale

lilies,

!.

and before him stood Gilbert Morgan,

his

almost

giant form attired in green and gold, trembling in every nerve, his sun-

burnt face darkening with deadly anger, his hands clenched, and his brown hair falling in disordered masses over his corrugated brow.

Gilbert had entered by the secret door, as Leola

came through

the other

door of her chamber. "

Go

on," she cried laughingly, in a tone of withering scorn, " This

Go

drama amuses me.

on,

husband of mine.

I

would not disturb your

love scene for the world."

And

the future

might have

killed

"And.soh,

my

Duchess of Lyndulfe

cast

him, had glances the power

gay

friend,

we've met

upon him

at last," said

Gilbert,

hunting knife from his belt: "I've waited a long time for

we have can

met, an' face

settle

And

to face

our long account

in the face

at

too.

a glance,

which

to kill.

There's no mistake

once, and without delay.

drawing a

this meetin'.

this time.

Come

But

We

!"

of his plighted wife, and with her scornful gaze upon him,

and in the face of Gilbert, and with his uplifted knife flashing in the light, Reginald drew Madeline to his breast, and kissed her rosy lips once more.

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

522

Gilbert uttered a blasphemous oath; Leola bit her red lip until

was

it

stained with blood.

"For

Madeline," he cried, "for

this,

have defied the power of

this I

the Fiend, and resolved to shake off his infernal sorcery, and be a

agin

Ah,

!

girl,

your words and heart are alike— false

—

Fiend himself!" Leola did not speak, but her thoughts was have sacrificed Paul Ardenheim !"

full

of agony

man the

as

false

—"For

this, I

Reginald's handsome face was convulsed with laughter. " Leola

by

Behold

!

my

long lost sister !" he cried, and taking Madeline

the hand, urged her gently into the

"

Ah

That

!

face

stamped upon

is

arms of

my

soul.

his Betrothed.

Yes, yes,

I

have seen you

before !" and the proud damsel extended her arms to clasp the

Orphan

Girl to her heart.

But Madeline did not respond

to

her caresses, nor look into her eye?.

For Madeline's warm cheek was warm and glowing no longer, and Madeline's bright eyes were obscured with a misty film. Trembling in every limb, she had suffered Reginald to press her lip, and lead her toward his Betrothed, but from the moment,

had

ears, she

when

the voice of Gilbert broke on her

And

consciousness of anything but his presence.

lost all

yet she had not seen him

;

she had not the power of will

to turn

and gaze

upon him.

Even faintly

the queenly

as

— "You saved my

of Gilbert

— every

woman

pressed her hands, Madeline

on that

life

murmured

night!" but her thoughts were

fatal

instant she expected to clasp his

hand and be gathered

to his heart.

"You

are not well

;

this

excitement has been too

much

for

you,

my

sweet sister," exclaimed Leola.

And

like a

Gilbert.

maiden walking

Stood face

to face

in

her sleep, Madeline turned and beheld

with him

—surveying

not his glitter'nr

so different from the rude huntsman's costume of other days, nor yet his

sunburnt face^ with brown curls about the brow, and a thick beard around the muscular throat

— but looking into his

eyes, as though she would grasp

his very Soul,

Gilbert his arras.

only thing

saw her look so wildly on him

"Come, Madeline," he left to

me on

this

earth,

— trembled — and

said, in

a

husky voice

reached forth

—"You're the

and you only can save

me from

the

Fiend."

She did not glide to him, she did not dart into his arms, but she was upon his breast her maidenly form, which looked slight and dimin-

there

—

—

utive beside his giant frame, quivering in his convulsive grasp. tears of that strong

man

fell like

rain

upon her

face,

of his joy, he muttered incoherent ejaculations,

with his adventures, might comprehend.

and

And

in the very

the

agony

which no one unfamiliar

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. " True

True

!

True by

!

True

!

523

as light to-day, or an angel to

God. There aint no blemish in you, girl. Spotless as the driven snow. And you'll pray for me, and God will hear your prayer. Wont its

you Madeline ?" He did not suffer her to answer him with words, but took his answer from her lips. How that kiss, the first that had pressed his mouth from Madeline's lips, since the fatal night thrilled poor Gilbert's soul

was

It

!

And

"

I

like a token of

Peace

murdered you, Madeline

savage beast, or a devil in you ever forgive ?"

human

—of Forgiveness. yes, stabbed

;

you

" Gilbert," she answered softly, pressing her hands face, as

he held her

to his breast, as

has gone from us forever.

It is

you would hold

She suffered them

to

if*

Did

upon

a child

morning with us now

Leola proud and beautiful, as she was strain her tears.

as

shape, like myself.

41 :

you'd been a n't

I

Can

?

his sunburnt

The

darkness

!"

in her bridal attire, could not re-

flow freely, and did not attempt to

hide them, as they flashed over her glowing cheek.

Reginald with a

veyed the scene

moody brow, and

in

lips

pressed between his teeth, sur-

silence, only muttering a

sullen

with some gallant ejaculation, such as this: " peasant grub turned butterfly, as

I

He

deep curse or two,

carries

Zounds!

live!

it

bravely

!

The

He'll strangle her

with his clownish kisses !" " And as you intend to marry the Lady Madeline, sister of

my Lord humble friend of the family, presume so far as to' request the favor of your name ?" It was a very mild voice, low and gentle, and yet it thrilled Leola and Reginald with the same shudder forced a shriek, half joy, half fear from Madeline's lips, and as for Gilbert, it seemed to transform into a statue may

Reginald,

I,

as an

;

;

a sort of quaint effigy of the giant Sampson, with a face of marble, and

costume of velvet It

was

He

glittering

with gold.

the voice of Rolof Sener.

had glided unperceived from the secret door, and

tween Gilbert and Reginald, as

he gazed

something

at

— with

his pale face slightly

upturned eyes

—

now

Gilbert's visage.

into

he stood be-

drooped upon his breast,

There was

once grotesque and sublime in the horror manifested by Gil-

Rolof Sener. Fiend himself!" he gasped, " save

bert, at the sight of

"The

me

from him, Madeline

—save

me, or I'm lost. He put his Soul upon me an hour ago, when I was in your room, at the Haunted House, away yonder at Germantown, and I

was

him

forced to obey

willed

me

— but

—and

—

walk where he wished and do as he power. To break his power, I

I've resolved to break his

say, and cast off his spells, and be

Madeline while

— you

this

pure

only

!

girl is

Back! on

my

my own man

Back!

breast

!"

I

say

!

agin.

You

You

can help me,

dare not touch

me

PAUL ARDENHEIM;

524

"Why

this

my

"is

OR,

good Rolof Sener," cried Madeline, amazed

father,

at Gilbert's horror.

You

"

back

when

my

see,

children,

blow from

a

Rolof with

if I

meant

arm would crush me

his

arms

his

to strike

him.

indeed!

I

powder."

to

head drooped on his breast, gazed

folded, and his

around with upturned eyes, while a sad sweet smile hung on his thin Leola shuddered

me,

like the

why, she could not

;

Rolof Sener,

me

have not moved an inch, and yet he bids

I

and shrinks away from me, as

!

who

tell

talked with

me

lips.

" His face does not seem to

:

to-day !" theUhought darted

over her mind. "

Ranulph John

!"

memory

muttered Reginald, as a singular

agitated

his brain.

You wish

"

marry

to

who now

continued Rolof,

this lady,"

This

gaily dressed.

is

"

Back

Back

!

Your eyes from

!

are

Unless indeed, your beautiful plumage

well.

But we wish

covers a vulture's heart.

kept his

— " You

gaze fixed immovably upon Gilbert's horror-stricken face

to

my

know your name

?"

my

your curse from

face I say,

soul!" shrieked. Gilbert, and in his despair he clutched poor Madeline with an embrace like Death itself; "You're spinnin' your infernal

around

me — I know

at last,

but while this girl

The words had stretched, with a

and motionless

;

it,

I

know

near

is

An'

it.

my

I

heart,

stiff,

mechanical movement

swooning she sank

Now my

"

into the

who

while

still

fair lady,

I

The

"The least

real Gilbert,

thought It is

it

It

Have

arms were

shone with a

is

out-

became

rigid

dull leaden

a Corpse !" and half-

may come

life,

I will

ques-

and cowardly

the goodness to remain per-

you,

my own

Madeline,

like a bird against the

not

let

bars of

its

back some day."

Gilbert?" cried Madeline, " This

real

— " she gazed

his

his features

with your permission

And

question him.

your heart throb against your bosom, cage.

when ;

thinks to hide his criminal

designs, under the cloak of madness. fectly

web

your clutches

extended arms of Reginald.

Lord, and you

cunning knave,

tion the

—"

into

defy you."

his eyes, fixed in their sockets,

not Gilbert !" shrieked Madeline

It is

I

scarcely passed his lips,

lustre.

"

must come

into the corpse-like face

is

Gilbert

Morgan,— at

and hesitated—" At

least I

was a moment ago."

not to be denied that Leola and Reginald awaited the issue of this

scene with a breathless interest.

And

as they stood, perfectly silent

and

motionless, their eyes alternating between the remarkable visage of Rolof

and the face of Gilbert,

on

his feet,

Music, dal

still

who

looked in truth, like a frozen man, placed

by some strange

fancy, the

merry sound of

burst in one bounding peal, through the

Chamber.

,

the

Marriage

window of

the Bri-

— :

\

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON.

525

" Answer me," said Rolof Sener, never for an instant removing his face, " Where was you, this night one year ?"

gaze from Gilbert's

A

horrible smile distorted Gilbert's lips, while

other part of his

the

face remained fixed as Death.

On

44

board the brave Ship Avenger, with as tight a crew as ever trod a

Ha, ha

pirate's deck.

—"

it

was not a burst of laughter, which came from

but rather a series of spasmodic groans

lips,

East Indiaman,

"

How we

why

then, the

moon came

hundred of them walk the plank, and struggle

five

waves

saw

up, and

their last,

among

the

as red as blood."

You

"

his

boarded the

and raked her decks, and drove her crew

at set of sun,

and then

into the hold,

—

hear ?"

whispered Rolof, turning

lover.

Madeline

to

—

this

is

your

—

Madeline was silent, but Leola muttered "If he was brave, and only made war upon the strong, I could love hirn in spite of all." Rolof again turned to Gilbert, whose face still retained its corpse-like

"You were the Captain of the Ship? answer me truly; know your life, and can punish falsehood with a halter." 44 The Captain — ha, ha !" again that burst of unearthly laughter 44 You should have asked my men, as they gathered about me after the immovability. I

,

fight,

who was

Captain of our Avenger

of the East Indiaman, and lot,

and made a night

o'

You

my

44

are listening

t

women,

too,

We

together.

We

!

had wine from the stores

— aye, we did.

I

saved the best of the

and

my

jolly crew."

child?" and again Rolof with his sweet smile

turned to Madeline. 44

only a frightful dream

It is

!"

she faltered and gathered her hands,

across her breast with a clash like iron.

and he

Gilbert,

my

is

44

And

yet in spite of

all, it

is

plighted husband."

Leola reached forth her hand, and pressed the cold hand of the Orphan Girl, while a tear glittered in her

Meanwhile Reginald's

the extremes of surprise and he muttered and retreated a step from Gilbert would have stolen my sister, and made her the toy of his brutal 44

horror. 44

He

The wretch

!"

Fraternal Reginald

orgies!" 44

proud eye.

face, manifested

!

my

Listen once again, Madeline,

child.

Tell me, Sir Pirate, did you

ever encounter a rude landsman in your travels,

You

lately

assumed

shallow knavery 44

1 did.

44

The

He

is

West

word ?"

!

tells

me,

it is

named

Gilbert

Morgan

?

but his rugged honesty would put your

Indies, I

By

it

saw him two years ago he often spoke was the last word on his lips !,' ;

cried Madeline, starting from the

dead, then, but no

My heart Gilbert

last

;

blush."

to the

In the

of the Wissahikon.

44

name

his

—no

you.

What means

this

!

It is

a mockery.

Wherefore these scene ?"

-

idle

You

arms of Reginald. are here, Gilbert.

words

?

Speak

to

me

— PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

526

Man whom

But the

she addressed did not answer her with a word

His leaden gaze was

not even with a look.

To

of Rolof Sener.

folded arms, looking into his face, with

gaze

" This

s

Yet Rolof without pausing

You saw the last " He died in my

Father

It

!

unworthy of your

is

answer her, continued

to

Morgan

of Gilbert

Girl sank back as

my

Courage,

"You line

" it,

was

Sister

not so dark as

It is

!

Not

do.

a doubt of

ever

if I

came

to

How

And

Morgan?"

Gilbert

My comrades often

!

Made-

laughed about

resolved that I'd turn

I

to

it

Philadelphia." ;

the last hope had gone out.

?" asked Rolof Sener.

the

Man

with the motionless form and corpse-like visage, uttered

a burst of hollow laughter as he replied

pretty lass

Had

named Madeline.

crets. of his love affairs,

to wit, the lover I

appears."

it

to

was dead,

tie

Madeline buried her face again "

;

who whispered—

question with quivering suspense.

by Jove

it,

when

while he lived, and

advantage,

to this

the answer.

had penetrated her bosom

a bullet

if

bear a great personal resemblance

awaited the answer I

:

arms, scarcely two years ago, of the yellow fever too,

she buried her pale face upon the breast of Leola, 4

questions

his

V

raving to the last about Wissahikon and Madeline,"

The Orphan

his

!"

generous nature "

upon

her soul, in the intensity of her

all

my

not kind of you,

is

centered on the visage

still

Rolof, Madeline turned and laid her head

even come

and the sweetheart. I

So

dead Gilbert.

planned

I

in fact, those dear

Says

I,

—

it,

of the se-

little

two persons, he died

—

if

Wissahikon, and make

be living

to

and so I've

to

that is after

will seek out this

Madeline— if she happens

love to this

" Gilbert had spoken

:

me,

which are generally only known

Philadelphia,

to

told

—

in the

tried to

name

accomplish

of the it,

but

to

the

"

you

" Villian

have

I

!

foiled

your cunning and brought your knavery

light,"

interrupted Rolof, his eyes for the

"Now

depart!

warning

!

Once

this

day, have

I

time, flashing with rage.

first

warned you;

I

now

But remember

This time you depart unscathed.

repeat !

my

Should

you ever appear upon the Wissahikon again or dare again, to assume the name of poor Gilbert Morgan remember I will deliver you into the clutches of that Justice, whose very name, makes your face wear the !

look of death, and the heart within turn

Peace

And

to

ice.

This time depart

in

!"

the

man, clad

in the

green doublet embroidered with gold, turned

his fixed eyeballs from the light, and with a measured, but mechanical stride, crossed the threshold of the secret stairway.

" Gilbert

!

Gilbert !" shrieked Madeline, darting forward with panting

bosom and outspread arms, "Do not bert

"

leave

But he did not turn back, and

me!

Do

not leave me, Gil-

cast one farewell look

upon her

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON.

527

Without a look, without one accent of farewell, he crossed the

face.

was gone. "Let me arrest his flight," cried Reginald, starting from his stupor, which had bound his senses while these events transpired before his very threshold, and

eyes

«

:

A

wretch like

self into a bailiff

That

is

on

not

this, is

"

Rolof waved him back. his

fit

wedding

Lord of Lyndulfe convert him-

the

night.

Let him depart

sufficient.

to live !"

Would in

have unmasked the wretch.

I

peace."

" Unmasked, indeed," murmured Madeline, sadly, gazing upon the spot where the Pirate had lately stood " But at the same time, good father, you have unmasked my grave. It was concealed by flowers, only a few moments since. I see it clearly now, and my foot is on the brink." :

—

Was it

it

a tear that subdued the stern light of Rolof

gaze?

's

Very sad

was, to see her standing there, the centre of the silent group, her pure

and virgin loveliness frozen "

by the hand

by

at its fountain,

Come, Madeline, you need repose,"

the corpse-hand of despair.

said 'Rolof, kindly, as he took her

" This house must be your home, until you depart for Eng-

:

your Brother Reginald, and your sister, his Bride." Even the thought of leaving Wissahikon, brought no glimpse of color

land, with

she took his hand in silence, and with faint and uneven foot-

to her

cheek

steps,

moved with him toward

;

"Reginald," he

said, as

again, before the marriage

a whisper, "

the door.

he passed the young Lord, "I will join you

ceremony.

Jacopo waits below" he added,

in

and

'when Leola cloys your appetite, the daughter of Catherine Conicell will lead on the drama of your loves." There was a strange significance in his look and smile, as he

Then passing onward, paternal tone tiful

now,

—" he

and yet

it

spoke these

where Leola

" Arrayed, for the bridal,

:

before, but

dulfe,

to

seems

to

my

child

me, you look

hissed the words in

Ardenheim will yet be yours .'" With Madeline clinging to his arm, he

latter

stood, he ?

words.

addressed her in a I

thought you beau-

Duchess of Lyn-

like the

an emphatic whisper: "Paul

left

the Bridal

Chamber, while

the Bride stood gazing on vacancy, her cheek flushed and

her

bosom

heaving; and the Bridegroom, with his gaze fixed upon Madeline's treating form, felt all the sensualism of his nature,

mount

to his eyes.

re-

The

words of Rolof Sener had thrilled like molten fire through their veins. u Paul Ardenheim will yet be yours !" murmured Leola, as she laid her

last

hand upon her voluptuous

And Reginald,

as he

over his breast, exclaimed well and Leola!

A

breast.

smoothed the snow-white cambric which to

himself

— "The

delicious contrast,

upon

fluttered

daughter of Catherine Con-

my

soul

!"

With thoughts like these stirring in their hearts, they took each other by the hand, and looked into each other's eyes. Never stood nobler pair before the marriage altar.

Reginald magnificent

in

his

young manhood )

«

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

528

his entire form presenting a perfect type of physical beauty

once graceful and muscular

;

his blonde

dark blue, his forehead relieved by hair of chesnut brown.

Leola, well-

developed in every rounded limb, her bosom swelling with

brown complexion blooming

into vermillion

on the

intense blackness of her hair, encircled with pale

The Soul

the darkness of her eyes.

form

—

Woman.

her clear

and cheeks, the

lips

only exceeded by

lilies,

embodied

There they were, hand

eye, looking into one another's faces, with

all

in hand,

in the

manly

was

shape of

eye gleaming in of an

the frankness

Faith, and meanwhile, in their hearts

trusting

life,

of a sensualist embodied in a

the Soul of a proud and ambitious Spirit

a voluptuous

his limbs at

;

complexion lighted by eyes of

all-

Lust and

written,

Pride. "

"

A A

beautiful animal !" he thought, as he pressed her hand.

me

convenient stepping stone for

!"

and Paul

she thought, as she

looked into his eyes.

There

is

Survey

it

sermons ever

a lesson in this scene; a lesson worth all the

preached in grand marble churches, with your

own

eyes

;

to

paint

it

ears of lead and hearts of brass. in

your memory.

This luxurious chamber, so beautiful with the pictures that seem breathe from the canvass, and marble images that look like

whose thought

by

have only been arrested

footsteps ;

this

for

a

human

moment by

a passing

luxurious chamber, whose very atmosphere seems hallowed

the sacred Marriage Bed, while

its

curtains

move

to

and

fro, to

the

Is

not

impulse of a breeze that comes ladened with Marriage Melody. a beautiful scene

And

to

beings

here, in

it

?

the

centre of the place, stand the

Bridegroom and the

seem to speak of which trembled from the gaze of Adam into the and after all, this Bridegroom and Bride Eve, and

Bride, looking into each other's eyes, with glances that

Love, as pure as that heart of spotless are only a Rich

Man

and his Purchase.

The Marriage Bed Priest ordained

—ah

!

What words spoken from

by a Bishop, what vows uttered

a book,

in the sight of

what

God and

man, can render holy that Marriage Couch ? " This night has beheld many dark and troubled scenes," whispered Leola, as her eyes wore a vague and dreamy light. .

" But, Leola," whispered Reginald, as his passionate breath fanned her cheek, while his eye, gazing over her snowy shoulder, beheld the Mar" But, Leola, after all it is our Marriage Night." riage Bed

—

moment, what scenes are passing yonder, within House of Wissahikon ? And Paul Ardenheim— does he live ? At

this

the

Block-

— THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON.

529

CHAPTER THE LAST. THE END OF ALL.

When

Paul awoke again, the luxurious chamber had passed away.

found himself alone, in the silence and shadow of Night. prostrate; his

brow was pressed

against the

and looked around, and endeavored

self

There was blood upon

He was But how was

that only the

solid walls

remembrance of a dream ? which shut him

light,

— came

And

"Ah — it was seems

that

brow

his

?

I

to

in,

and the murmur of music

came

fitful

— music

and broken

pealing within

faintly to his ear.

"Where am I?" he it

mark of blood upon

the shrubbery

rays of festival

Yet

this

brain.

This much he knew.

of the Wizard's Daughter, clinging to the neck of Reginald

And through

brow.

Why

?

raised him-

shattered senses.

smote his very

his forehead; a sharp pain

had he come hither

He

grass.

shrubbery, near the secret door.

in the

The form

damp

to collect his

He

His form was

muttered, and placed his hand against his bleeding all

me, that

saw her

a dream.

I

knew

heard Reginald

I

that

I

would awake

her by the

call

A

clinging to the neck of Reginald.

name

at last.

of Leola.

troubled dream

nothing more !"

A

and

:

drew near

at the

his side,

of Rolof Sener.

Face before.

that

"

hum of merry voices, rushed upon same moment, a form emerged from the shadows and and by a ray of broken light, he saw the pale visage

burst of music, mingled with the

his ear

The

smote the heart of Paul, that he had seen

But where?

Bride has gone

sweetness, "

Do you

A memory

And now

to

the

her chamber," said a voice, singular in

young Husband goes

hear the shouts of the marriage guests

its

to

claim his Purchase.

?

Leola

is

young and

— and married. Or Sold the word And the Rich Man who bought her — do you remember how an hour ago, he smote you on the cause How he forehead, — aye, smote the very scar you received beautiful

is

?

in his

?

this

you from the chamber, and flung you, bleeding and insensible, upon an hour ago and now he sod ? Reginald, your friend, did this

goes

to

thrust

—

—

claim his Purchase.

in the Bridal

His footstep

is

on the threshold

Leola

couch awaits him."

And Paul Ardenheim speaker; he clutched

it,

felt

something pressed into his grasp by the

and raised

it

until

it

met a

fitful

ray;

it

was

a

dagger, with a hilt of iron, and a long blade sharp and glittering.

"That door

leads to her chamber," whispered Rolof Sener

Ardenheim, without a word, went through the narrow door

ness of the secret chamber, the iron-hilted dagger in his grasp.

84

;

and Paul

into the dark-

— !

PAUL ARDENHEIM; OR,

530

As he disappeared,

Ralph WyttonkursU Rolof Sener's •

side,

you

will

His pallid

hands were clasped, as

face,

Have no

in the act of

if

murmured,

the face of Rolof Sener, and

"

from the bushes, and glided

to

Rolof Sener's

at

seen by the wandering rays, was stamped with awe

feet.

is

—crept

and then sank trembling and prostrate

—

his

Van Behme— or Sir

the withered frame of Isaac

as

worship

—"Satan!"

— he

gazed into

sweet voice of Rolof Sener, " Paul Ardenheim

fear," said the

mine, and Paul Ardenheim

gone

is

bring the precious blood for

to

which thou dost seek."

Up

the

hand, went Paul Ardenheim, and

dark stairway, dagger in

pressed the spring of the secret door, but in vain.

touch; the mirror was fastened in laid

his

hand upon

garment, and

felt

its

It

Then

place.

move

did not

at

his

Paul, in the darkness,

hrow, and thrust that hand within his

his bleeding

Broken Coin.

the fragment of the

Then, as

every

if

relenting pulse had turned to ice, he pressed his weight against the door it

yielded

without a sound

—and

;

he crossed the threshold of Leola's

chamber.

A

solitary

lamp was burning there, and its rays left the shadow, while the Bridal Bed, its white

pictures in twilight together,

gleamed

on

distinctly

his sight

sound of murmuring voices met

bending over

their folds

her with his gold ;

her form was

she was standing beside the bed,

;

and with an arm around her snowy neck.

it,

Paul stood on the threshold

chamber with noiseless

the

drawn

folds, the

Leola in the arms of Reginald

who had bought

Yes, her white robe appeared in the interval of the curtains

dimly discernible through

curtains

— and from those snowy

his ear.

Leola in the embrace of the Rich Man,

statues and the

—glanced

steps,

around

for

an instant

— crossed

and over Leola's shoulder, struck

his

dagger into the breast of Reginald, even as he reclined upon the couch.

And

then Leola turned to look upon him, and Paul, tearing the curtains

with his frenzied hands, rushed forward, eager

dying man.

It

uttered shriek,

to

catch the last

loo.* o;

uie

was too dim; he could not see; he heard Leola's halfbut the face and the visage of the Dying was lost in the

shadow.

—

Then, suddenly a burst of warm radiance filled the place Paul turned, light which gushed through the doorway of the chamber,

and by the glad

And at the saw Leola and Reginald encircled'by the marriage guests. same time, from the secret door appeared the face of Isaac Van Behme, quivering with an infernal desire

— while

Rolof Sener calm and smiling,

stepped into the room with folded arms.

Paul turned

to the

the ashen face.

whose golden

It

hair

Bed once more, and saw

was His Father.

waves aside from

But a

the prostrate form, and

this

face,

Woman

knew

by the bed-side,

serenely beautiful, with

eyes of clear, deep blue, lighted by an Angel's love

?

It is

its

Catherine.

—

;

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON. The

sister

by the bed gazing into agony

his hand, writhed his last

She took him by

the

her voice and lived

buried in the pillow.

why, and turned explanations

;

Father stricken by

his face, while the

!

hand "

man.

features of the old

531

—" But

—

his Sister

He

— and

Paul

dies,

pointed to the quivering

— " she

As you

struck,

I

aside the deadly aim.

raised

my

—

let

—yes —he !

The

heard

knife

is

hand, scarce knowing-

Away, Paul

Away

no time for thought.

said

Look

not by your hand.

;

no time

this is

for

not your footsteps pause

you stand within our Home once more. To the Block-House, Paul, and when you have rescued the Deliverer, and looked upon your true

until

Destiny, then

I,

Catherine, your Sister, will

tell

you

all."

Paul heard her voice, and looked into her eyes, and drank the God-born

Thought, which gave them Sister's

hand

to his lips,

For a moment he lingered

light.

—even

sculptured Mary, mother of the Lord

— and then with

press hie

to

as a Catholic might the marble

hand of a

an agitated counte-

nance, but with eyes radiant with a holy Resolve, he turned away, and

passed through the door, passed between the forms of Leola and Reginald

— without a glance, The

rest of the

chronicles of

without a word. events of that

Mount Sepulchre?

night

—

are

they not written

Some day we

will again take

in

the

up the

Record, and from the mysterious cyphers translate the history of Paul

Leola

;

Reginald

:

of Madeline and Gilbert, and of the dread Ranulph,

whose corpse-like visage, Paul beheld in the shadows of the Sealed Chamber. But now, we linger only for a parting word As Paul crossed the threshold, Rolof Sener rushed to the Bed, saw that the dagger was harmless and then with a livid face approached Reginald, even as Leola, pale and beautiful, hung on his arm " Behold the Son of Gaspard-Michael !" he cried and pointed to the re-

—

—

:

treating

form of Paul Ardenheim.

And Catherine chilled

kneeling by the bed, and pressing her Father's death-

hands within her own,

and thanked the God of

all

plans and infernal cunning,

lifted

life,

all

that

up her eyes and voice the

to

Malice of Satan, his

had been brought

and crushed by the instinct of a Sister's Love.

END OF BOOK SECOND.

to nothing,

Heaven, intricate

conquered

PAUL ARDENHEIMj OR,

532

EPILOGUE. WORD TO THE READER.

A Thus scripts,

far

Monk

heim the present

We

it

progressed in our translation of the Ancient

Manu-

Cypher, the history of Paul ArdenMuch we have written, and yet at the

in their peculiar

of Wissahikon.

moment we have

have seen the

seen

scarcely passed the threshold of that history.

Paul Ardenheim's Soul

fearful education of

;

we have

We

writhing into shape, in scenes of temptation and despair.

have yet at

we

have

which record

look upon that Soul, in

to

matured

its

What pen

once generous and sublime.

embodied

vigor,

in deeds,

shall dare attempt the portrait-

of Paul Ardenheim, and trace

him step by step from Step by step through the American Revolution, among scenes which written History has blazoned to the ure of the entire the

life

chamber of Leola

to his

grave

among scenes which

world, and

the charnels of the Past reveal Paul

?

Ardenheim gliding

dumb and

slumber,

still

What hand

?

shall dare to

—

Ghost

like a

like

lift

unrecorded,

m

the curtain, and

an embodied Fate-

through the incredible horrors and gloomy triumphs of the French Revo? For glancing over the untranslated volumes, which in their diffiCypher, enshroud these Legends of a past age, we read the name of the Monk of Wissahikon, not only in connection with the history of Washington and the New World but also on the red page, which tells

lution cult

;

of the Old

World

freedom with Robespierre the Messiah

in travail for its

of Blood, presiding over

glorious agonies.

its

neither our time, nor the limits of this tire

of Paul Ardenheim

life

;

and array

its

who

and calm fixed

—

speak a word

after traversing

many

attain the last hill-top,

you.

to

a hill

upon the wide landscape of to

attempt

to

Let us

yet, at this

for a

to

in

talk together like

my two

—

their pilgrimage.

word

moment,

it is

side by side, in storm moment, with their eyes

and valley

and linger

let us talk together, and say a frank

now,

And

are about to part after journeying together so long,

heart, Reader, to friends,

to translate the en-

various and mysterious inci-

dents in the familiar garb of every-day speech.

when we

At the present moment,

work permit us

Like friends,

each other.

explain the mysteries of the present

It is

work

;

I

say,

not for me,

many

things

— THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON.

which appear dark and obscure, might easily be made plain

in its pages,

by a simple reference

as sunlight,

day

in our

Magnetism.

called

is

to that great

But

any explanation of these mysteries from *

that

all

But

now appears

work

this

tions like these,

*

is

in a future

;

work

not attempt

I will

may

I

—

its

events are wild

in a frank

the veil

lift

Ardenheim.

—unnatural —

based upon supernatural agency

might answer,

I

science of the Soul, which

the present,

for

incredible in the history of Paul

Improbable

is

machinery of the story friend

533

the very

To

!'

objec-

my

and confidential way,

:

Truth

Wherefore

stranger than Fiction.

is

Because Fiction only

?

revels and glows in the Probable, while Truth in her noblest form, dares,

and conquers the Impossible.

Was

ever Fiction so wild, so romantic, so

utterly defiant of all your rules of criticism, as the actual

Bonaparte.

Fiction in

its

life

of

Napoleon

present form as displayed in the poems and

novels of the present day, does not present extravagant views of paint pictures that transcend probability

;

its

life,

or

delineations, or the contrary,

are only extravagant in their tameness, and transcendant in their mathe-

The truest of true histories never look at first sight, man of Franklin's day, that a time would come — was coming, and the boy of ten years old might live to see it when carriages would go by themselves when ships would cross the ocean without sails when a man in Boston would converse with his friend in New Orleans, by means of a wire stretched along an infinitude of poles Ten matical probability.

like Truth.

Tell a

—

;

;

!

chances

to

one, but Dr. Franklin himself would have put you out of his

wild as these

office, for assertions

:

without a doubt, any one of Dr. Frank-

neighbors would have quelled your lunacy in a mad-house.

lin's

man

veriest

of " common-sense''' of Franklin's day,

—

The

the merest gossip of

newspaper could have told you, that your brain was your blood red-hot with fever. How many years is it since a crowd of our most respectable citizens men of common-sense, mark you none of your vague dreamers, but suba neighborhood, or a

mad, your skull

soft,

—

stantial

men, familiar with business, and eloquent

in

bank notes

— stood

laughing and jeering on a Philadelphia wharf, while crazy John Fitch

tempted steam Fact

!

to be

?

to

propel a boat without sails

Poor John Fitch, how they

He

starved

to

;

pitied him, these

death, while his " Folly" that

is

propelled by the agency of paddles and steam

some muddy

hole, near Kensington.

John Fitch's

folly,

And now,

in

of Matter-of-

the boat intended

—

rotted snugly

;

in

which was

and the steam

car,

Franklin's day, would have scared a

whole church of common sense' men '

men

the steamboat

has become Robert Fulton's fame

and Magnetic Telegraph, which

at-

merely by the aid of paddles and

into

spasms, are admitted

to exist,

even by the most respectable newspapers. '

The Thing, we deem Improbable, my about which we know precisely

thing,

friend, is

—nothing.

many

a time just the

Everything great

in

—

—

PAUL ARDENHEIM

534

history or religion, has

science,

men

at

OR,

;

view been the most improbable

first

mad when he spoke

Paul was

thing in the world.

;

among

of Brotherhood

mad wen he said the earth moved round the sun Washmad when he said that he could defeat the tyranny of an Anointed

Galileo

;

ington

;

King.

The

'

rule that

literature.

Mad

mad

at the

three

is

good

and

in history, science

Paradise Lost

religion,

also true in

is

—mad Childe Harold— mad Zanone

All

!

time of their publication, and their respective authors,

worthy of nothing so much as a dark

with shower baths and straight

cell,

jackets innumerable.

works

If

*

like these

have been called "

mad

!"

and their authors

how

ed as either harmless idiots or malignant demoniacs, thor like your

book

Now

'

humble

friend, ever

Paul Ardenheim

like

I

— true

altogether impossible.

— herod,

written " the

The

mmt

critics

book and

its

The

print a

French school," to invent a

springs of

author,

grown

—horror

expect to

true to the feelings,

They

;

he prides himself

etc. etc. will

new vocabulary

on

having

''

own

choice language) this

Their

their thunder stolen before hand.

"Monk

are

reckless of the critical stilleto,

use up' (in our

'

all

it

down human

every clime.

in

1

who

—

incidents are utterly improbable.

out-horrors

author, will find

to the

man

improbable book in the world.'

withering sarcasms about the

to

time and place, as they are set

and

in all ages

same time these

'At the

have

at the

to the secret history of the heart of

which sway mankind,

out-herods

—

do not claim for the present work, that the incidents, which

I

do claim for these incidents, that they are true

action

'

Courage, to write

assail-

poor au-

?

embodies, occurred precisely, but

summon

shall a

Lewis," "Mrs. Radcliffe," "works of

They

not avail them in this case.

become

of slang, and

familiar, with

will

some-

thing more venemous even than their souls, in order to abuse a book which stares them in the face, with its motto "the most improbable BOOK IN THE WORLD." The very title of the work will appal the writings of the small papers, ?

4

and shock

Monk

wrote the hikon.

into spasms, the portentous

of the Wissahikon !"

Monks

of Monk-Hall, and

"

thugs of the Magazines.

" This author

is at

now he

Will he never have done with monks

his old tricks again

writes the

1

Who

Monk

The ;

he

of Wissa-

ever heard of

Monks

you come to that, "what is the Wissahikon, but an obscure mill-stream, hidden somewhere among big hills ? Will he never have done with horrors ? He wrote the Legends of the Revolution we all know that the Revolution is past and gone our people demand

on the Wissahikon, or

if

—

something more practical than

—

all

this

worn-out matter of the Revolution, and

He crowds his skulls; Monk Lewis is

that sort o' thing.

corpses; daggers;

and he distances poor Mrs. Radcliffe

pages with horror a fool to

in the

way

him

;

skeletons

;

in the horrible,

of the monstrous.

Be-

;

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON.

535

works smack of the French School a school made infamous by George Sand, the profligate Sue, and the unnatural Dumas. Why does he not attempt something in a quiet vein,—founded on fact touched with unpretending pathos, and pointing to some impressive moral, sides his

;

the licentious

—

such as the immaculate purity of our banking

institutions, or the spotless

integrity of the Corporation which built Girard College, or the myste"

what ever became of the Funds of the United States Bank?" a critique ready mad and at the serfriend, you have it

rious query,

any gentleman, connected with the

vice of

Or, should your taste, incline

ture.

adorn the

me

Take

elaborated.

—break

capitals

you an

give

and marks of admiration

These

down.

gentlemen

who made

it

—

is

it

some choice obsce-

manner and an

wit, turned

slavers

last

why

Death Scene of

when

when

laughter,

its

obscenity there.

its

free, lively vein,

elevation of tone,

by "

capers about, over the bones

it

its

it

mounts the

can take up any

It

write Divinity into a

worthy of the

Indeed things like

able critics"

—

thief,

who

scoffed his

have been done,

this,

good

mention these persons,'

I

life

my

I

'

No,

sorry that

mon for

fac

I

friend.

who

— Do you expect '

let

me

turn to you,

my

friend.

A to

that pulsates

at.

my

heart,

by pages

heart,

like

I

And

friend neither bought with

my

my

labors.

room, writing these closing words,

but gathered

And on

reflection I

am

with even the mention of these " com-

this page,

— But now,

—repress the throb

woman;

the divine lesson of Brotherhood,

;

have never taken you by the hand.

my

our

of the Redeemer?'

have blotted

stabbers."

God, more

figure in certain of

hear you exclaim

expect nothing of the kind.

your generous sympathy with

ness of

my

man

in the heart of universal

as displayed in the

in

" withering burlesque writers," precisely

impress their natures, with any such ideas, as the purity of

the

which

peculiar wit of these

newspapers and magazines.' But

put

is

remember

hour of the Dying Redeemer, with a freedom of

— died blaspheming.

'

I

the last sigh,

The

of the same class, as the respectable gentlemen

to

He

burlesqued.

is

capital fun out of the

boisterous, in

quite

and mock the

than one case

£ is

in all the garniture of big

it

well, with

author

by a clever piece of

passage of the Bible, and with

and

The

never so vivacious, as

is

'

he grew quite merry over the dying struggles of the Mar-

;

Altar of Religion, and

jest,

— array

his livid lips, into a laughable joke?

of the dead

Mr.

kind of literature

writers of 'burlesques' are terrible fellows.

tyr and Hero, and

came from

burlesque of

'

peculiar

this

— slime

done.

is

one of the select band,

Nathan Hale

litera-

the purest thought that ever flowed from an author's

into short paragraphs

it

and your work

nity,

how

idea,

department of our

critical

those delectable productions, which

to

under the head of

literary' papers,

'

style? let

pen

—

my

'There,

I

friend,

and thank you

have never seen your

yet, as I sit in the loneli-

cannot,

when

—even

I reflect,

if I

that

would

you are

money, nor won by baseness which I now send forth to

these,

— 536

PAUL ARDENHEIM

you.

Pages, written

by

slander, or

but which so,

4

still I

amid various circumstances; amid the clamor of a candle held in the skeleton hand of Poverty?

hope, are true to the best instincts of humanity.

our familiar talk

of the

"

One

Monk

is

over, I

and

I

once more glance

— And

into the pages of the

some

chronicled, an incident of

of Wissahikon

interest in the

:

night, in a miserable garret, hidden

bourg of the great vigil

THE MONK OF THE WISSAHIKON.

the light of

Ancient Record, where life

;

away

in

some obscure faukeeping the

city of Paris, there sat a lonely student,

of his thought, and even as he gazed with his vacant eyes, upon the

flame of the expiring candle, tracing absently upon a sheet of paper, his

unknown name,

*

Maximilien

And even

Robespierre.''

as he sat there,

so sad and lonely, with half-formed thought, glimmering in his vacant glance, there appeared to

a

told

him of

him

a stranger,

And he

Sorrow unutterable. his Future,

whose

face

was impressed with

took the lonely youth by the hand, and

and pointed him

to a path,

which covered with

blood, and strewn with crowns and thornes, ended at the foot of the Guillotine.

last

own

'This path you will walk

— yonder

your stern mission accomplished, you Guillotine.'

And

the Boy-Student trembled at

unknown, who passed from the place ere echo, but

left

The names

King you

the record of his

together read thus

will kill

— and

at

upon your the prophecy of the

will die abhorred

his last word, had

ceased to

name, beneath the name already written.

—

«

Maximilien Robespierre

Ardemheim,' "

THE END.

* * *

»

Paul