Feudal tyrants; or, The Counts of Carlsheim and Sargans, volume 3 (of 4)Naubert, Benedikte
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Feudal tyrants; or, The Counts of Carlsheim and Sargans, volume 3 (of 4)
Naubert, Benedikte
German fiction -- Translations into English
“We were now near the vault, and already the beams of the distant lamp
struck our eyes; but on our entrance, those among us who were
best-sighted were aware, that the vault was not so totally unoccupied,
as I had left it. By the glimmerings of a small lanthorn a tall dark
figure was descried, kneeling on the before-mentioned grating. I sprang
forward. The stranger heard my steps, started from the ground, and
rushed by me so suddenly, that I attempted to stop him in vain. I called
to the approaching Monks not to let him pass; but before they could
reach him, his foot stumbled, and he fell prostrate on the ground.
“Totally engrossed by their impatience to rescue the prisoner, my
companions were hastening forwards without paying any attention to the
stranger; but a thought, which passed through my mind like a flash of
light, made me conceive, how important it was to examine him. I
flattered myself, that I should discover in him that same Luprian, whom
the unfortunate had mentioned, and who in all probability was her
gaoler. Should my conjecture prove correct, I considered this meeting as
a great step towards her deliverance: I therefore grasped him firmly by
the arm, and dragged him towards the lamp, in order that I might examine
my prize.
“I beheld a miserable creature, enveloped in the ragged habit of a monk,
and whose bloodless cheeks, sunk eyes, and emaciated limbs would have
excited my deepest compassion, had I not had good cause to harbour
suspicions, that compassion was a sentiment, of which he was but little
deserving.
—“Art thou Luprian?” said I in a thundering voice.
“He sank at my feet, and stammered out an avowal.
—“Wretch!” I continued; “what motive could induce thee to confine an
unfortunate woman in yonder subterraneous dungeon?”—
“He was silent for a few moments; then suddenly starting from the
ground—“You know that she _is_ confined there,” said he with a furious
look, “and knowing that, you know enough to destroy me! Ask me no more
questions; I will answer none!”—
“He threw himself sullenly upon the heap of ruins, and maintained an
obstinate silence. Unwilling to own that I knew no more than his name, I
first endeavoured to terrify him into a disclosure of this mystery; and
finding my threats produce no effect, I had recourse to persuasion,
painting in as strong colours as possible the cruelty of suffering the
unfortunate to remain longer in her prison, and exhorting him to atone
in some degree for his faults towards his captive, by being himself the
instrument to effect her release. In the mean while my companions had
fallen to work with their spades and mattocks; but large pieces of stone
frequently fell into the dungeon below; and the cries of the sufferer,
who dreaded being crushed beneath their weight, convinced them, how
dangerous was this mode of procuring her deliverance, and finally
compelled them to desist from the attempt.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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