The Monk: A Romance
He snatched the Lamp hastily, and purposely let it fall upon the
ground: The Landlord returned to the Kitchen to re-light the Lamp,
leaving the door open. I profited by the obscurity, sprang from my
Horse with Cunegonda in my arms, darted up stairs, reached my chamber
unperceived, and unlocking the door of a spacious Closet, stowed her
within it, and then turned the Key. The Landlord and Theodore soon
after appeared with lights: The Former expressed himself a little
surprised at my returning so late, but asked no impertinent questions.
He soon quitted the room, and left me to exult in the success of my
undertaking.
I immediately paid a visit to my Prisoner. I strove to persuade her
submitting with patience to her temporary confinement. My attempt was
unsuccessful. Unable to speak or move, She expressed her fury by her
looks, and except at meals I never dared to unbind her, or release her
from the Gag. At such times I stood over her with a drawn sword, and
protested, that if She uttered a single cry, I would plunge it in her
bosom. As soon as She had done eating, the Gag was replaced. I was
conscious that this proceeding was cruel, and could only be justified
by the urgency of circumstances: As to Theodore, He had no scruples
upon the subject. Cunegonda’s captivity entertained him beyond measure.
During his abode in the Castle, a continual warfare had been carried on
between him and the Duenna; and now that He found his Enemy so
absolutely in his power, He triumphed without mercy. He seemed to think
of nothing but how to find out new means of plaguing her: Sometimes He
affected to pity her misfortune, then laughed at, abused, and mimicked
her; He played her a thousand tricks, each more provoking than the
other, and amused himself by telling her that her elopement must have
occasioned much surprise at the Baron’s. This was in fact the case. No
one except Agnes could imagine what was become of Dame Cunegonda: Every
hole and corner was searched for her; The Ponds were dragged, and the
Woods underwent a thorough examination. Still no Dame Cunegonda made
her appearance. Agnes kept the secret, and I kept the Duenna: The
Baroness, therefore, remained in total ignorance respecting the old
Woman’s fate, but suspected her to have perished by suicide. Thus past
away five days, during which I had prepared every thing necessary for
my enterprise. On quitting Agnes, I had made it my first business to
dispatch a Peasant with a letter to Lucas at Munich, ordering him to
take care that a Coach and four should arrive about ten o’clock on the
fifth of May at the Village of Rosenwald. He obeyed my instructions
punctually: The Equipage arrived at the time appointed. As the period
of her Lady’s elopement drew nearer, Cunegonda’s rage increased. I
verily believe that spight and passion would have killed her, had I not
luckily discovered her prepossession in favour of Cherry Brandy. With
this favourite liquor She was plentifully supplied, and Theodore always
remaining to guard her, the Gag was occasionally removed. The liquor
seemed to have a wonderful effect in softening the acrimony of her
nature; and her confinement not admitting of any other amusement, She
got drunk regularly once a day just by way of passing the time.
The fifth of May arrived, a period by me never to be forgotten! Before
the Clock struck twelve, I betook myself to the scene of action.
Theodore followed me on horseback. I concealed the Carriage in a
spacious Cavern of the Hill, on whose brow the Castle was situated:
This Cavern was of considerable depth, and among the peasants was known
by the name of Lindenberg Hole. The night was calm and beautiful: The
Moonbeams fell upon the antient Towers of the Castle, and shed upon
their summits a silver light. All was still around me: Nothing was to
be heard except the night breeze sighing among the leaves, the distant
barking of Village Dogs, or the Owl who had established herself in a
nook of the deserted Eastern Turret. I heard her melancholy shriek, and
looked upwards. She sat upon the ride of a window, which I recognized
to be that of the haunted Room. This brought to my remembrance the
story of the Bleeding Nun, and I sighed while I reflected on the
influence of superstition and weakness of human reason. Suddenly I
heard a faint chorus steal upon the silence of the night.
“What can occasion that noise, Theodore?”
“A Stranger of distinction,” replied He, “passed through the Village
today in his way to the Castle: He is reported to be the Father of
Donna Agnes. Doubtless, the Baron has given an entertainment to
celebrate his arrival.”
The Castle Bell announced the hour of midnight: This was the usual
signal for the family to retire to Bed. Soon after I perceived lights
in the Castle moving backwards and forwards in different directions. I
conjectured the company to be separating. I could hear the heavy doors
grate as they opened with difficulty, and as they closed again the
rotten Casements rattled in their frames. The chamber of Agnes was on
the other side of the Castle. I trembled lest She should have failed in
obtaining the Key of the haunted Room: Through this it was necessary
for her to pass in order to reach the narrow Staircase by which the
Ghost was supposed to descend into the great Hall. Agitated by this
apprehension, I kept my eyes constantly fixed upon the window, where I
hoped to perceive the friendly glare of a Lamp borne by Agnes. I now
heard the massy Gates unbarred. By the candle in his hand I
distinguished old Conrad, the Porter. He set the Portal doors wide
open, and retired. The lights in the Castle gradually disappeared, and
at length the whole Building was wrapt in darkness.
While I sat upon a broken ridge of the hill, the stillness of the scene
inspired me with melancholy ideas not altogether unpleasing. The Castle
which stood full in my sight, formed an object equally awful and
picturesque. Its ponderous Walls tinged by the moon with solemn
brightness, its old and partly-ruined Towers lifting themselves into
the clouds and seeming to frown on the plains around them, its lofty
battlements overgrown with ivy, and folding Gates expanding in honour
of the Visionary Inhabitant, made me sensible of a sad and reverential
horror. Yet did not these sensations occupy me so fully, as to prevent
me from witnessing with impatience the slow progress of time. I
approached the Castle, and ventured to walk round it. A few rays of
light still glimmered in the chamber of Agnes. I observed them with
joy. I was still gazing upon them, when I perceived a figure draw near
the window, and the Curtain was carefully closed to conceal the Lamp
which burned there. Convinced by this observation that Agnes had not
abandoned our plan, I returned with a light heart to my former station.
The half-hour struck! The three-quarters struck! My bosom beat high
with hope and expectation. At length the wished-for sound was heard.
The Bell tolled “One,” and the Mansion echoed with the noise loud and
solemn. I looked up to the Casement of the haunted Chamber. Scarcely
had five minutes elapsed, when the expected light appeared. I was now
close to the Tower. The window was not so far from the Ground but that
I fancied I perceived a female figure with a Lamp in her hand moving
slowly along the Apartment. The light soon faded away, and all was
again dark and gloomy.
Occasional gleams of brightness darted from the Staircase windows as
the lovely Ghost past by them. I traced the light through the Hall: It
reached the Portal, and at length I beheld Agnes pass through the
folding gates. She was habited exactly as She had described the
Spectre. A chaplet of Beads hung upon her arm; her head was enveloped
in a long white veil; Her Nun’s dress was stained with blood, and She
had taken care to provide herself with a Lamp and dagger. She advanced
towards the spot where I stood. I flew to meet her, and clasped her in
my arms.
“Agnes!” said I while I pressed her to my bosom,
Agnes! Agnes! Thou art mine!
Agnes! Agnes! I am thine!
In my veins while blood shall roll,
Thou art mine!
I am thine!
Thine my body! Thine my soul!
Terrified and breathless She was unable to speak: She dropt her Lamp
and dagger, and sank upon my bosom in silence. I raised her in my arms,
and conveyed her to the Carriage. Theodore remained behind in order to
release Dame Cunegonda. I also charged him with a letter to the
Baroness explaining the whole affair, and entreating her good offices
in reconciling Don Gaston to my union with his Daughter. I discovered
to her my real name: I proved to her that my birth and expectations
justified my pretending to her Niece, and assured her, though it was
out of my power to return her love, that I would strive unceasingly to
obtain her esteem and friendship.
I stepped into the Carriage, where Agnes was already seated. Theodore
closed the door, and the Postillions drove away. At first I was
delighted with the rapidity of our progress; But as soon as we were in
no danger of pursuit, I called to the Drivers, and bad them moderate
their pace. They strove in vain to obey me. The Horses refused to
answer the rein, and continued to rush on with astonishing swiftness.
The Postillions redoubled their efforts to stop them, but by kicking
and plunging the Beasts soon released themselves from this restraint.
Uttering a loud shriek, the Drivers were hurled upon the ground.
Immediately thick clouds obscured the sky: The winds howled around us,
the lightning flashed, and the Thunder roared tremendously. Never did I
behold so frightful a Tempest! Terrified by the jar of contending
elements, the Horses seemed every moment to increase their speed.
Nothing could interrupt their career; They dragged the Carriage through
Hedges and Ditches, dashed down the most dangerous precipices, and
seemed to vye in swiftness with the rapidity of the winds.
All this while my Companion lay motionless in my arms. Truly alarmed by
the magnitude of the danger, I was in vain attempting to recall her to
her senses; when a loud crash announced, that a stop was put to our
progress in the most disagreeable manner. The Carriage was shattered to
pieces. In falling I struck my temple against a flint. The pain of the
wound, the violence of the shock, and apprehension for the safety of
Agnes combined to overpower me so compleatly, that my senses forsook
me, and I lay without animation on the ground.
I probably remained for some time in this situation, since when I
opened my eyes, it was broad daylight. Several Peasants were standing
round me, and seemed disputing whether my recovery was possible. I
spoke German tolerably well. As soon as I could utter an articulate
sound, I enquired after Agnes. What was my surprise and distress, when
assured by the Peasants, that nobody had been seen answering the
description which I gave of her! They told me that in going to their
daily labour they had been alarmed by observing the fragments of my
Carriage, and by hearing the groans of an Horse, the only one of the
four which remained alive: The other Three lay dead by my side. Nobody
was near me when they came up, and much time had been lost, before they
succeeded in recovering me. Uneasy beyond expression respecting the
fate of my Companion, I besought the Peasants to disperse themselves in
search of her: I described her dress, and promised immense rewards to
whoever brought me any intelligence. As for myself, it was impossible
for me to join in the pursuit: I had broken two of my ribs in the fall:
My arm being dislocated hung useless by my side; and my left leg was
shattered so terribly, that I never expected to recover its use.
The Peasants complied with my request: All left me except Four, who