Penny Dreadful Multipack Vol. 1 (Illustrated. Annotated. 'Wagner The Wehr-Wolf,' 'Varney The Vampire,' 'The Mysteries of London Vol. 1' + Bonus Features) (Penny Dreadful Multipacks) (7 page)

THE HISTORY OF AGNES

“When
 
you, dear brother—for so I shall
henceforth call you—commenced your strange and wondrous revelations ere now,
you painted in vivid colors the happiness which dwelt in our poor cottage on
the borders of the Black Forest. You saw how deeply your words affected me—I
could not restrain my tears. Let me not, however, dwell upon this subject; but
rather hasten to explain those powerful causes which induced me to quit that
happy home.

“It was about six weeks before my
flight that I went into the forest to gather wood. I was in the midst of my
occupation, gayly thrilling a native song, when the sound of a horse’s feet
upon the hard soil of the beaten path suddenly interrupted me. I turned around,
seeing a cavalier of strikingly handsome countenance—though somewhat stern
withal, and of noble mien. He was in reality forty-four years of age—as I
afterward learnt; but he seemed scarcely forty, so light did time sit upon his
brow. His dress was elegant, though of some strange fashion; for it was Italian
costume that he wore. The moment he was close to the spot where I stood he
considered me for a short while, till I felt my cheeks glowing beneath his
ardent gaze. I cast down my eyes; and the next instant he had leapt from his
horse and was by my side. He addressed me in gentle terms; and when again I
looked at him his countenance no more seemed stern. It appeared that he was
staying with the Baron von Nauemberg, with whom he had been out hunting in the
Black Forest, and from whom and his suite he was separated in the ardor of the
chase. Being a total stranger in those parts, he had lost his way. I
immediately described to him the proper path for him to pursue; and he offered
me gold as a recompense. I declined the guerdon; and he questioned me
concerning my family and my position. I told him that I lived hard-by, with an
only relative—a grandsire, to whom I was devotedly attached. He lingered long
in conversation with me; and his manner was so kind, so condescending, and so
respectful, that I thought not I was doing wrong to listen to him. At length he
requested me to be on the same spot at the same hour on the morrow; and he
departed.

“I was struck by his
appearance—dazzled by the brilliancy of
 
 his
discourse; for he spoke German fluently, although an Italian. He had made a
deep impression on my mind; and I felt a secret longing to meet him again.
Suddenly it occurred to me that I was acting with impropriety, and that you
would be angry with me. I therefore resolved not to mention to you my
accidental encounter with the handsome cavalier; but I determined at the same
time not to repair to the forest next day. When the appointed hour drew near,
my good genius deserted me; and I went. He was there, and he seemed pleased at
my punctuality. I need not detail to you the nature of the discourse which he
held toward me. Suffice it to say, that he declared how much he had been struck
with my beauty, and how fondly he would love me; and he dazzled me still more
by revealing his haughty name; and I found that I was beloved by the Count of
Riverola.

“You can understand how a poor
girl, who had hitherto dwelt in the seclusion of a cottage on the border of a
vast wood, and who seldom saw any person of higher rank than herself, was
likely to be dazzled by the fine things which that great nobleman breathed in
her ear.

“And I was
dazzled—flattered—excited—bewildered. I consented to meet him again: interview
followed interview, until I no longer required any persuasion to induce me to
keep the appointments thus given. But there were times when my conscience
reproached me for conduct which I knew you would blame; and yet I dared not
unburden my soul to you!

“Six weeks thus passed away; I
was still innocent—but madly in love with the Count of Riverola. He was the
subject of my thoughts by day—of my dreams by night; and I felt that I could
make any sacrifice to retain his affection. That sacrifice was too soon
demanded! At the expiration of the six weeks he informed me that on the
following day he must return to Italy, whither important affairs called him
sooner than he had anticipated. He urged me to accompany him; I was
bewildered—maddened by the contemplation of my duty on the one hand, of my love
on the other. My guardian saint deserted me; I yielded to the persuasion of the
count—I became guilty—and there was now no alternative save to fly with him!

“Oh! believe me when I declare
that this decision cost me a dreadful pang; but the count would not leave me
time for reflection. He bore me away on his fleet steed, and halted not until
the tall towers of Nauemberg Castle appeared in the distance. Then he stopped
at a poor peasant’s cottage, where his gold insured me a welcome reception.
Having communicated the plan which he proposed to adopt respecting our journey to
Florence, he took an affectionate leave of me, with a promise to return on the
ensuing morning. The remainder of the day was passed wretchedly enough by me;
and I already began to repent of the step I had taken. The peasants who
occupied the cottage vainly endeavored to cheer me; my heart was too full to
admit of consolation. Night came at length, and I retired to rest; but my
dreams were of so unpleasant a nature—so filled with frightful images—that
never did I welcome the dawn with more enthusiastic joy. Shortly after daybreak
the count appeared at the
 
 cottage,
attended by one of his numerous suite—a faithful attendant on whom he could
rely implicitly. They were mounted on good steeds; and Antonio—such was the
name of the servitor—led a third by the bridle. This one the count had
purchased at an adjacent hamlet, expressly for my use. He had also procured a
page’s attire; for in such disguise was it agreed that I should accompany the
count to Italy.

“I should observe that the
nobleman, in order to screen our
 
amour
 
as much as possible, had set out from
Nauemberg Castle, attended by Antonio alone, alleging as an excuse that certain
affairs compelled him to travel homeward with as much celerity as possible. The
remainder of his suit were therefore ordered to follow at their leisure.

“Oh! with what agonizing emotion
did my heart beat, as, in a private chamber of the cottage, I laid aside my
peasant’s garb and donned the doublet, hose, cap and cloak of a youthful page.
I thought of you—of your helplessness—your age,—and also of my native land,
which I was about to quit—perhaps forever! Still I had gone too far to retreat,
and regrets were useless. I must also confess that when I returned to the room
where the count was waiting for me, and heard the flattering compliments which
he paid me on my appearance in that disguise, I smiled—yes, I smiled, and much
of my remorse vanished!

“We set out upon our journey
toward the Alps; and the count exerted all his powers of conversation to chase
away from my mind any regrets or repinings that might linger there. Though cold
and stern—forbidding and reserved—haughty and austere in his bearing toward
others, to me he was affectionate and tender. To be brief, yet with sorrow must
I confess it, at the expiration of a few days I could bear to think, without
weeping, of the fond relative whom I had left behind in the cottage of the
Black Forest!

“We crossed the Alps in safety,
but not without experiencing much peril; and in a short time glorious Italy
spread itself out at our feet. The conversation of the count had already
prepared me to admire——”

At this moment, Agnes’ narrative
was interrupted by a piercing shriek which burst from her lips; and extending
her arms toward the window of the apartment, she screamed hysterically, “Again
that countenance!” and fell back on the ottoman.

CONCLUSION OF THE HISTORY OF AGNES

In
 
order that the reader may
understand how Agnes could perceive any object outside the window, in the
intense darkness of that tempestuous night—or rather morning, for it was now
past one o’clock—we must observe that not only was the apartment in which
Wagner and herself were seated brilliantly lighted by the silver lamps, but
that, according to Florentine custom, there were also lamps suspended outside
to the veranda, or large balcony belonging to the casements of the room above.

 Agnes and Wagner were,
moreover, placed near the window which looked into a large garden attached to
the mansion; and thus it was easy for the lady, whose eyes happened to be fixed
upon the casement in the earnest interest with which she was relating her
narrative, to perceive the human countenance that appeared at one of the panes.

The moment her history was
interrupted by the ejaculation of alarm that broke from her lips, Wagner started
up and hastened to the window; but he could see nothing save the waving
evergreens in his garden, and the light of a mansion which stood at a distance
of about two hundred yards from his own abode.

He was about to open the casement
and step into the garden, when Agnes caught him by the arm, exclaiming wildly,
“Leave me not—I could not—I could not bear to remain alone!”

“No, I will not quit you, Agnes,”
replied Wagner, conducting her back to the sofa and resuming his seat by her
side. “But wherefore that ejaculation of alarm? Whose countenance did you
behold? Speak, dearest Agnes!”

“I will hasten to explain the
cause of my terror,” retorted Agnes, becoming more composed. “Ere now I was
about to detail the particulars of my journey to Florence, in company with the
Count of Riverola, and attended by Antonio; but as those particulars are of no
material interest, I will at once pass on to the period when we arrived in this
city.”

“But the countenance at the
window?” said Wagner, somewhat impatiently.

“Listen—and you will soon know
all,” replied Agnes. “It was in the evening when I entered Florence for the
first time. Antonio had proceeded in advance to inform his mother—a widow who
resided in a decent house, but in an obscure street near the cathedral—that she
was speedily to receive a young lady as a guest. This young lady was myself;
and accordingly, when the count assisted me to alight from my horse at the gate
of Dame Margaretha’s abode, the good widow had everything in readiness for my
reception. The count conversed with her apart for a few minutes; and I observed
that he also placed a heavy purse in her hand—doubtless to insure her secrecy
relative to the
 
amour
, with the existence of
which he was of course compelled to acquaint her. Having seen me comfortably
installed in Dame Margaretha’s best apartment, he quitted me, with a promise to
return on the morrow.”

Agnes paused for a few moments,
sighed, and continued her narrative in the following manner:

“Fortunately for me, Dame
Margaretha was a German woman, who had married an Italian, otherwise my
condition would have been wretched in the extreme. She treated me with great
kindness, mingled with respect; for though but a poor peasant girl, I was
beloved and protected by one of the most powerful nobles of Florence. I retired
early to rest:—sleep did not, however, immediately visit my eyes! Oh! no—I was
in Florence, but my thoughts were far away in my native Germany, and on the
borders of the Black Forest. At length I fell into an
 
 uneasy slumber, and when I awoke
the sun was shining through the lattice. I arose and dressed myself, and to my
ineffable delight found that I was no longer to wear the garb of a page. That
disguise had been removed while I slept, and in its place were costly
vestments, which I donned with a pleasure that triumphed over the gloom of my
soul. In the course of the morning rich furniture was brought to the house, and
in a few hours the apartments allotted to me were converted, in my estimation,
into a little paradise. The count arrived soon afterward, and I now—pardon me
the neglect and ingratitude which my words confess—I now felt very happy. The
noble Andrea enjoined me to go abroad but seldom, and never without being
accompanied by Dame Margaretha; he also besought me not to appear to recognize
him should I chance to meet him in public at any time, nor to form
acquaintances; in a word, to live retired and secluded as possible, alike for
his sake and my own. I promised compliance with all he suggested, and he
declared in return that he would never cease to love me.”

“Dwell not upon details, Agnes,”
said Wagner; “for, although I am deeply interested in your narrative, my
curiosity is strangely excited to learn the meaning of that terror which
overcame you ere now.”

“I will confine myself to
material facts as much as possible,” returned Agnes. “Time glided rapidly
away;—months flew by, and with sorrow and shame must I confess that the
memories of the past, the memories of the bright, happy days of my innocence
intruded but little on the life which I led. For, though he was so much older
than I, yet I loved the Count of Riverola devotedly. Oh! Heaven knows how
devotedly! His conversation delighted, fascinated me; and he seemed to
experience a pleasure in imparting to me the extensive knowledge which he had
acquired. To me he unbent as, doubtless, to human being he never unbent before;
in my presence his sternness, his somber moods, his gloomy thoughts vanished.
It was evident that he had much preying upon his mind; and perhaps he loved me
thus fondly because—by some unaccountable whim or caprice, or strange
influence—he found solace in my society. The presents which he heaped upon me,
but which have been nearly all snatched from me, were of immense value; and
when I remonstrated with him on account of a liberality so useless to one whom
he allowed to want for nothing, he would reply, ‘But remember, Agnes, when I
shall be no more, riches will constitute your best friend, your safest
protection; for such is the order of things in this world.’ He generally spent
two hours with me every day, and frequently visited me again in the evening.
Thus did time pass; and at length I come to that incident which will explain
the terror I ere now experienced.”

Agnes cast a hasty glance toward
the window, as if to assure herself that the object of her fears was no longer
there; and, satisfied on this head, she proceeded in the following manner:

“It was about six months ago that
I repaired as usual on the Sabbath morning to mass, accompanied by Dame
Margaretha, when I found myself the object of some attention on the part of
 
 a lady, who was kneeling at a
short distance from the place which I occupied in the church. The lady was
enveloped in a dark, thick veil, the ample folds of which concealed her
countenance, and meandered over her whole body’s splendidly symmetrical length
of limb in such a manner as to aid her rich attire in shaping, rather than
hiding, the contours of that matchless form. I was struck by her fine
proportions, which gave her, even in her kneeling attitude, a queen-like and
majestic air; and I longed to obtain a glimpse of her countenance—the more so
as I could perceive by her manner and the position of her head that from
beneath her dark veil her eyes were intently fixed upon myself. At length the scrutiny
to which I was thus subjected began to grow so irksome—nay, even alarming, that
I hurriedly drew down my own veil, which I had raised through respect for the
sacred altar whereat I was kneeling. Still I knew that the stranger lady was
gazing on me; I
 
felt
 
that she was. A certain uneasy
sensation—amounting almost to a superstitious awe—convinced me that I was the
object of her undivided attention. Suddenly the priests, in procession, came
down from the altar; and as they passed us, I instinctively raised my veil
again, through motives of deferential respect. At the same instant I glanced
toward the stranger lady; she also drew back the dark covering from her face.
Oh! what a countenance was then revealed to me—a countenance of such sovereign
beauty that, though of the same sex, I was struck with admiration; but, in the
next moment, a thrill of terror shot through my heart—for the fascination of
the basilisk could scarcely paralyze its victim with more appalling effect than
did the eyes of that lady. It might be conscience qualms, excited by some
unknown influence—it might even have been imagination; but it nevertheless
appeared as if those large, black, burning orbs shot forth lightnings which
seared and scorched my very soul! For that splendid countenance, of almost
unearthly beauty, was suddenly marked by an expression of such vindictive rage,
such ineffable hatred, such ferocious menace, that I should have screamed had I
not been as it were stunned—stupefied!

“The procession of priests swept
past. I averted my head from the stranger lady. In a few moments I again
glanced hurriedly at the place which she had occupied—but she was gone. Then I
felt relieved! On quitting the church, I frankly narrated to old Margaretha
these particulars as I have now unfolded them to you; and methought that she
was for a moment troubled as I spoke! But if she were, she speedily recovered
her composure—endeavored to soothe me by attributing it all to my imagination,
and earnestly advised me not to cause any uneasiness to the count by mentioning
the subject to him. I readily promised compliance with this injunction; and in
the course of a few days ceased to think upon the incident which has made so
strange but evanescent an impression on my mind.”

“Doubtless Dame Margaretha was
right in her conjecture,” said Wagner; “and your imagination——”

“Oh, no—no! It was not fancy!”
interrupted Agnes, hastily. “But listen, and then judge for yourself. I
informed you ere
 
now that it was
about six months ago when the event which I have just related took place. At
that period, also, my noble lover—the ever-to be lamented Andrea—first
experienced the symptoms of that internal disease which has, alas! carried him
to the tomb.”

Agnes paused, wiped away her
tears, and continued thus:

“His visits to me consequently
became less frequent;—I was more alone—for Margaretha was not always a
companion who could solace me for the absence of one so dearly loved as my
Andrea; and repeated fits of deep despondency seized upon my soul. At those
times I felt as if some evil—vague and undefinable, but still terrible—were
impending over me. Was it my lord’s approaching death of which I had a
presentiment? I know not! Weeks passed away; the count’s visits occurred at
intervals growing longer and longer—but his affection toward me had not abated.
No: a malady that preyed upon his vitals retained him much at home;—and at
last, about two months ago, I received through Antonio the afflicting
intelligence that he was confined to his bed. My anguish now knew no bounds. I
would fly to him—oh! I would fly to him:—who was more worthy to watch by his
couch than I, who so dearly loved him! Dame Margaretha represented to me how
painful it would be to his lordship were our
 
amour
 
to transpire through any rash
proceeding on my part—the more so, as I knew that he had a daughter and a son!
I accordingly restrained my impetuous longing to hasten to his bedside:—I could
not so easily subdue my grief!

“One night I sat up late in my
lonely chamber—pondering on the melancholy position in which I was
placed,—loving so tenderly, yet not daring to fly to him whom I loved,—and
giving way to all the mournful ideas which presented themselves to my
imagination. At length my mind grew bewildered by those sad reflections; vague
terrors gathered around me—multiplying in number and augmenting in
intensity,—until at length the very figures on the tapestry with which the room
was hung appeared animated with power to scare and affright me. The wind moaned
ominously without, and raised strange echoes within; oppressive feelings
crowded on my soul. At length the gale swelled to a hurricane—a whirlwind,
seldom experienced in this delicious clime. Howlings in a thousand tones
appeared to flit through the air; and piercing lamentations seemed to sound
down the black clouds that rolled their mighty volumes together, veiling the
moon and stars in thickest gloom. Overcome with terror, I retired to rest—and I
slept. But troubled dreams haunted me throughout the night, and I awoke at an
early hour in the morning. But—holy angels protect me!—what did I behold?
Bending over me, as I lay, was that same countenance which I had seen four
months before in the church,—and now, as it was
 
then
,
darting upon me lightning from large black eyes that seemed to send shafts of
flame and fire to the inmost recesses of my soul! Yet—distorted as it was with
demoniac rage—that face was still endowed with the queen-like beauty—the
majesty of loveliness, which had before struck me, and which even lent force to
those looks of dreadful menace that
 
 were
fixed upon me. There were the high forehead—the proud lip, curled in scorn,—the
brilliant teeth, glistening between the quivering vermilion,—and the swan-like
arching of the dazzling neck; there also was the dark glory of the luxuriant
hair!

“For a few moments I was
spell-bound—motionless—speechless. Clothed with terror and sublimity, yet in
all the flush of the most perfect beauty, a strange—mysterious being stood over
me: and I knew not whether she were a denizen of this world, or a spirit risen
from another. Perhaps the transcendent loveliness of that countenance was but a
mask and the wondrous symmetry of that form but a disguise, beneath which all
the passions of hell were raging in the brain and in the heart of a fiend. Such
were the ideas that flashed through my imagination; and I involuntarily closed
my eyes, as if this action could avert the malignity that appeared to menace
me. But dreadful thoughts still pursued me—enveloping me, as it were, in an
oppressive mist wherein appalling though dimly seen images and forms were
agitating; and I again opened my eyes. The lady—if an earthly being she really
were—was gone. I rose from my couch and glanced nervously around—expecting
almost to behold an apparition come forth from behind the tapestry, or the
folds of the curtains. But my attention was suddenly arrested by a fact more
germane to worldly occurrences. The casket wherein I kept the rich presents
made to me at different times by my Andrea had been forced open and the most
valuable portion of its contents were gone. On a closer investigation I
observed that the articles which were left were those that were purchased new;
whereas the jewels that had been abstracted were old ones, which, as the count
had informed me, had belonged to his deceased wife.