PANCRATIUS (_to his attendants_). Lie upon this spot with your faces to the turf, remain perfectly still, kindle no fires, beat no signals, and, unless you hear the report of firearms, stir not until the dawn of day! LEONARD. I once more conjure you, citizen! PANCRATIUS. Lean against this tall pine, Leonard, and pass the night in reflection. LEONARD. I pray you, Pancratius, take me with you! Remember, you are about to intrust yourself alone with an aristocrat, a betrayer, an oppressor.... PANCRATIUS (_interrupting him, and impatiently gesturing to him to remain behind_). The old nobles seldom broke a plighted promise! * * * * * A vast feudal hall in the castle of Count Henry. Pictures of knights and ladies hang upon the walls. A pillar is seen in the background bearing the arms and escutcheons of the family. The Count is seated at a marble table upon which are placed an antique lamp of wrought silver, a jewel-hilted sword, a pair of pistols, an hourglass, and clock. Another table stands on the opposite side, with silver pitchers, decanters, and massive goblets. THE MAN. At the same hour, surrounded by appalling perils, agitated by foreboding thoughts, the last Brutus met his Evil Genius. I await a like apparition. A man without a name, without ancestors, without a faith or guardian angel; a man who is destroying the Past, and who will, in all probability, establish a new era, though himself sprung from the very dust, if I cannot succeed in casting him back into his original nothingness--is now to appear before me! Spirit of my forefathers! inspire me with that haughty energy which once rendered you the rulers of the world! Give me the lion heart which erst throbbed in your dauntless breasts! Give me your peerless dignity, your noble and chivalric courtesy! Rekindle in my wavering soul your blind, undoubting, earnest faith in Christ and in His church: at once the source of your noblest deeds on earth, your brightest hopes in heaven! Oh, let it open for me, as it was wont to do for you; and I will struggle with fire and sword against its enemies! Hear me, the son of countless generations, the sole heir of your thoughts, your courage, your virtues, and your faults! The castle bell sounds twelve. It is the appointed hour: I am prepared! An old and faithful servant, Jacob, enters, fully armed. JACOB. My lord, the person whom your excellency expects is in the castle. THE MAN. Admit him here. Exit Jacob. He reappears, announcing Pancratius, and again retires. PANCRATIUS. Count Henry, I salute you! The word 'count' sounds strangely on my lips. He seats himself, throws off his cloak and liberty cap, and fastens his eyes on the pillar on which hang the arms and shield. THE MAN. Thanks, guest, that you have confided in the honor of my house! Faithful to our ancient forms, I pledge you in a glass of wine. Your good health, guest!