The Continental Classics, Volume XVIII., Mystery Tales: Including Stories by Feodor Mikhailovitch Dostoyevsky, Jörgen Wilhelm; Bergsöe and Bernhard Severin IngemannVarious
General
The Continental Classics, Volume XVIII., Mystery Tales: Including Stories by Feodor Mikhailovitch Dostoyevsky, Jörgen Wilhelm; Bergsöe and Bernhard Severin Ingemann
Various
Detective and mystery stories
"Lock the door," said Numa, when they were all in; "we must not be
interrupted;" and, making them stand in a circle, he looked around at
them all, one by one.
"Are you all here?" he asked at last.
"Not one is absent."
"Do you consider yourselves all equally deserving of sharing _the
booty_?"
"All of us."
"It was you," he continued to Lupey, "who struck down the old man?"
"It was."
"And you who pierced the magnate with a spike?"
"You are right, leader."
"And you really killed all the women in the castle?" turning to a
third.
"With my own hand."
"And one and all of you can boast of having massacred, and plundered,
and set on fire?"
"All! all!" they cried, striking their breasts.
"Do not lie before Heaven. See! your wives are listening at the window
to what you say, and will betray you if you do not speak the truth."
"We speak the truth!"
"It is well!" said the leader, as he calmly approached the bed; and,
seating himself on it, uncovered the two heads and placed them on his
knee. "Where did you put their bodies?" he asked.
"We cut them in pieces and strewed them on the highroad."
There was a short silence. Numa's breathing became more and more
oppressed, and his large chest heaved convulsively. "Have you prayed
yet?" he asked in an altered voice.
"Not yet, leader. What should we pray for?" said Lupey.
"Fall down on your knees and pray, for this is the last morning which
will dawn on any of you again."
"Are you in your senses, leader? What are you going to do?"
"I am going to purge the Roumin nation of a set of ruthless murderers
and brigands. Miserable wretches; instead of glory, you have brought
dishonor and disgrace upon our arms wherever you have appeared. While
the brave fought on the field of battle, you slaughtered their wives
and children; while they risked their lives before the cannon's mouth
you attacked the house of the sleepers and robbed and massacred the
helpless and the innocent. Fall down on your knees and pray for your
souls, for the angel of death stands over you, to blot out your memory
from among the Roumin people!"
The last words were pronounced in a fearful tone. Numa was no longer
the cold unmoved statue he had hitherto appeared, he was like a fiery
genius of wrath, whose very breath was destruction.
The Wallachians fell upon their knees in silent awe, while the women
who had been standing outside, rushed shrieking down the rocks.
The Decurio drew a pistol from his breast, and approached the cask of
gunpowder.
With a fearful howl, they rushed upon him; the shriek of despair was
heard for an instant, then the terrible explosion which caused the
rocks to tremble, while the flames rose with a momentary flash amidst
clouds of dust and smoke, scaring the beasts of the forest, and
scattering stones and beams, and hundreds of dismembered limbs, far
through the valley, and over the houses of the terrified inhabitants!
When the smoke had dissipated, a heap of ruins stood in the place of
Numa's dwelling.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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