The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 20, No. 567, September 22, 1832Various
History
The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 20, No. 567, September 22, 1832
Various
Popular literature -- Great Britain -- Periodicals
"Father," said I, in the same unearthly tone, "fear nothing, it is no
man that addresses thee; well thou knowest that no fleshly form can
gain entrance here; it is not a man, but a spirit, with whom thou art
communing." As I spoke thus, I could hear the Friar rapidly commending
himself to the protection of the Holy Mother of God, and of all the
Saints; and I continued, "She whom thou camest to confess, is now beyond
the reach of thy counsel: her soul has gone to its heavy account, and
her body lieth there;" said I, gliding aside, and knowing well, that
although nothing could be seen from the cell through the grating, yet
all within was visible from the other side. "I am the ghost of the
murdered José Andrades;" (the husband of Isabel) and at the same time
that I made this announcement, I threw back a part of the hood that
covered my face, and the dim light from the circular hole falling upon
the upper part of the countenance, showed a visage which fasting and
confinement had already made more like the face of a dead than of
a living man, and which I had taken care to besmear with blood.
A new exclamation of horror, and still more rapid prayers, followed this
revelation.
"Here," continued I, again drawing the hood over my face, and
approaching the grate--from which I could hear the Friar retreating;
"here will I remain, in dread communion with the body of my murderer,
until it be taken hence; delay not to let this be done, else I will
speak with thee nearer anon."
The Friar being already as near to the ghost of a murdered man as he
probably desired to be, and willing to prevent the execution of this
threat of a nearer colloquy, swung the screen forward, which closed with
a tremendous clank, and the rapid footsteps of the terrified confessor
speedily died away.
"Ah, Dios!" said Isabel, "I had scarcely courage to go through my part:
when you spoke of my soul having gone to its account, I was on the point
of rising, to convince myself that I was yet living."
"Surely," returned I, "you may find courage to personate a dead woman,
when I have no hesitation in personating the ghost of a murdered man;
the stratagem succeeds; you will have but once more to play your part;
and I am much mistaken if we be not both outside of this tower before
another day shall pass over our heads;" and animated by this hope,
Isabel promised to obey my directions.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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