The New-York Weekly Magazine, or Miscellaneous Repository: Forming an Interesting Collection of Original and Select Literary Productions in Prose and Verse
General
The New-York Weekly Magazine, or Miscellaneous Repository: Forming an Interesting Collection of Original and Select Literary Productions in Prose and Verse
American periodicals
“You know my Lord, how punctually and successfully this design has been
put into execution. An accident was the cause of a second more important
plan, the execution of which has not been less successful. The
_Unknown_, who after his disappearance was listening attentively, in the
secret chamber, heard among other discourses, by means of the tube, the
prayer which the Countess addressed to him on account of the apparition
of her deceased Lord. He reflected a few minutes on the possibility of
granting it, and promised to satisfy her wishes. The tube was the
channel through which the _Unknown_ conveyed his answer to the
Countess.”
Seized with astonishment at Paleski’s narration, and impatient to hear
its continuation, I had not interrupted him once; but now I could not
refrain any longer from speaking. “Then Amelia is really innocent?”
I exclaimed, “and was not privy to the artifices of the _Unknown?_”
“Not in the least!” Paleski replied, “as I wish to be saved! The
Countess is innocent; she has been deceived as well as your Lordship,
and probably her faith in the supernatural power of the _Unknown_, is
still as firm as it was then.”
This declaration lessened my anger at having been deceived in so
villainous a manner, I begged Paleski to continue his account.
“Does your Lordship recollect all the particulars of the apparition
scene?”
“Yes! I do.”
“Well, then I will explain it to you. On the day previous to the magical
farce, the _Unknown_ told me that he had gained over to our party the
brother-in-law of the Countess, who had arrived lately, in order to
surprise Amelia unexpected, and promised to act the part of the ghost--”
“Impossible!” I exclaimed, “you must be mistaken. At least you are not
speaking of Count Clairville?”
“Yes the very same person who is at present your travelling companion.”
A chilly tremor thrilled through my whole frame; my mind measured with a
look of horror the time past and present. I beheld myself in the power
of two men, one of whom had imposed upon my heart by means of the mask
of sincere friendship, and the other upon my understanding, by
displaying a shew of pretended supernatural powers, and both of whom
were leagued to work upon my credulity, and to make me run into the
greatest dangers.
(_To be continued._)
* * * * *
A PRODIGY.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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