The New-York Weekly Magazine, or Miscellaneous Repository Part 112

"Tell me your sentiments without reserve; I know you have had a strong desire for some time to come to an explanation with me."

"You have been ill, and I wish to spare you."

"I don't want your forbearance. Speak."

"At another time, my friend, at another time."

"No delay. Alumbrado is no stranger to my history, and consequently may hear your observation on it."

"If you insist upon if, then I must tell you that I am extremely vexed at the idea that the fellow, who dared to sport with your understanding has enjoyed the triumph of guiding you in leading-strings whithersoever he chose. I am glad that you have rendered his magical labours so toilsome; I am rejoiced at the resistance which you have opposed to his attacks; but it grieves me that he has conquered you so dishonestly and artfully. I cannot but confess that the artifice to which your penetration yielded, has been enormous; however, I am angry with you because the man whom you really had discovered to be a cheat, succeeded a second time in gaining your confidence."

"Do you then imagine that the Irishman has imposed on me in the latter period of our connection as well as in the beginning of it?"

"Undoubtedly."

"That this occult science consists merely in juggling tricks?"

"In _natural_ arts of all kind."

"By what natural means could he have affected the apparition of Antonio at the church-yard?"

"I cannot tell; however, we should probably have learned it from the Count if he had not been suffered to escape."

"I am glad you remind me of the Count. Why did he refuse so obstinately to explain that incident in spite of my prayers and menaces, declaring solemnly that it had been effected by supernatural means, although he has candidly discovered the rest of the delusions of the Irishman. What benefit could he expect from deceiving me any longer, the revolution being established, and consequently his end attained?"

"Has he not confessed that he is in the service of the Irishman? Can you know what orders he has received from his employer? Was not the veil of mystery which the Count has thrown over that incident, the only remaining mean of supporting the authority of his lord and master? Who knows what he would have confessed if you had shown a firm resolution to enforce your menaces?"

"I confess I acted very weakly and rashly, in suffering him to escape so soon."

"At bottom it matters very little. What confidence could you have reposed in the confession of a man, who on a former occasion has imposed on you in so shameless and daring a manner? And what will you say if I prove to you that he has belied you the last time too?"

"You astonish me."

"Don't you recollect that he pretended the note through which Amelia has been absolved from her vow by her late Lord, to have been the effect of Hiermanfor's supernatural power?"

"Not only the Count, Hiermanfor too has made me believe it."

"Both of them has told you a barefaced lie."

"Friend, how will you be able to make good your charge?"

"By proving that pretended miracle to be a juggling trick."

"You have raised my expectation to the highest pitch."

"I have learned that trick of a juggler, and I am sure that which the Irishman has made use of is the same. He gave Amelia a blank slip of paper, and directed her to write the question on the upper part of it.

Here you must regard three points; first of all, that he _himself_ gave the paper, to Amelia; secondly, that he desired the question to be written on the upper part of it; and thirdly, that he dictated the question to her; he then put the paper on the table, fumigated the apartment with an incense of his own composition, and requested the Countess to look at the paper in the morning. It was very natural that the answer to the question was seen beneath it, having been previously written with sympathetic ink the preceding evening, but first rendered visible in the night by the fumigation. Very likely it had been written by the Count, who could imitate the hand-writing of his brother."

The Duke gazed at me along while, seized with dumb astonishment. At length he clapped his hands joyfully, exclaiming, "O! my friend, what a light have you cast upon that dark mysterious affair."

"A light," my reply was, "that will a.s.sist you to see clearly how dishonestly the Irishman and the Count have dealt with you to the last.

They endeavoured to persuade you that you had been deceived at first, merely for the sake of probation, and that you had been paid with sterling truth after Paleski's discovery. Poor deceived man; you have always been beset with lies and delusions; the sole point in which they differed from each other, consisting merely in the superior art which the latter impositions were contrived with."

"Then you believe that the apparition at the church-yard has also been a deception, like the incident with the miraculous note."

"Yes, I have every reason to think so. When I have once caught a person in the act of committing a fraud, I then have the greatest right to suppose that he has repeatedly imposed upon me; and when I am convinced that he has frequently deceived me, I then have the greatest reason to conclude that he has cheated me the last time also."

"Then you think a real apparition of a ghost to be impossible."

"Why do you ask that question? All that we have to decide at present, is, whether the Irishman or any man living can effect such an apparition."

"You want to evade my question."

"Indeed not!"

"Then tell me, do you think apparitions of ghosts to be possible?"

"Tell me, does not this question imply, that, are men capable of seeing ghosts?"

"Certainly."

"That I deny."

"You think that no man living has that capacity."

"And not without reason. We can see only those objects which throw an image on the retina of the eye, and consequently only expanded things; a spirit has no expansion, and therefore cannot be seen by us."

"You cut it very short."

"My argument is valid."

(To be continued.)

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+The HISTORY of Mrs. MORDAUNT.+ [By Herself.]

I shall not regret tracing the sorrows which marked the morning of my life. If I can inspire suffering virtue with confidence in heaven, and a gentle hope that when chastened in the school of adversity, the hand of happiness will amply recompense those who have patiently sustained its rough discipline.

At the tender age of sixteen I was deprived of a mother, whose loss I had every reason to deplore, as her precepts instilled into my inexperienced heart wisdom, and her example taught me to persevere in the path of virtue; though crossed with sorrows and perplexed with difficulties, she was prepared for that hour which so unexpectedly arrived, and launched her spotless into eternity. My father, Sir George Blandford, ah! how different from her in every respect, n.o.bly descended, and possessed of an affluent fortune, he thought himself superior to the world; his soul was filled with pride, and he looked down with haughtiness on the rest of mankind. He had a son five years older than me; gentle, generous, and like his departed mother, susceptible of every soft impression; he was abroad at her death, which happened in London, and from which place Sir George determined immediately to bring me to his seat in the country. With melancholy hearts, we commenced our journey, the second day crossing a little stream, we found ourselves in imminent danger, owing to a violent fall of rain, which had rendered the current so rapid, the horses vainly struggled against it--in a few moments we should inevitably have perished, but for the interposition of a young man, who standing on the opposite bank, perceived our situation, and with wonderful presence of mind rushed into the water and a.s.sisted the men in bringing the carriage to sh.o.r.e. I had fainted from terror, a small cottage stood at a little distance to which they conveyed me, after a few remedies I revived. My apprehensions being over, I had an opportunity of contemplating the figure of my generous deliverer, whose resolution excited my warmest grat.i.tude. He was just at that period of life when youth loses itself in manhood; his person strikingly elegant, his face expressive of the greatest sensibility, and his fine eyes beaming with a soft melancholy which seemed to announce him the son of sorrow. My father thanked him with as much warmth as he could a.s.sume, but a n.o.bler grat.i.tude rose in my soul, for from that hour I loved. With pain I heard the carriage announced, and entered it, I durst not talk of him, the rigidity of Sir George's disposition, prevented me.

The estate to which we were going I had never been at, but its castle was held in wonderful estimation by my father. He confirmed it as an honourable memorial of the antiquity of his ancestors. At our arrival I was struck with horror; the ravages of all-conquering time were in several places displayed; a dark wood surrounded it, impenetrable to the chearing rays of the resplendant luminary; thro' vistas cut amidst the thick boughs of old oaks, a cataract was espied foaming with impetuous fury down the side of a stupenduous mountain, from which a muddy stream took its course in hoa.r.s.e murmurings through the wood. What an habitation for a mind already depressed, it filled mine with gloomy sadness, which I durst not manifest, for to dislike my father's favourite mansion would have incurred his severest displeasure.

A fortnight after my arrival, I obtained with difficulty, permission to spend some time with a young lady whom I had known from my infancy, and loved with the tenderest affection. We spent our days delightfully; happy in each other's society, they glided insensibly away. Riding early one morning with her, my horse, alarmed by the shouting of some thoughtless boys going to school, notwithstanding all my efforts, flew off at a rate that terrified me with the idea of every moment being dashed off.