Fabiola : or, The church of the catacombs - Digital Repository Services

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hour of justice, were it only a aingli- moment !"
And she stretched outlier hands towards him. weeping bitterly.
But the guilty cue did not deign to listen to her, and
sud nnd solitary she returned to her dwelling in the city. She
had scarcely entered when Stefauo and Victor appeared.
"Alas ! brother, I've spoken to him, but he would listen to
she cried. "Oh ! God, my God ! is there no more
"Alas ! tie too he's my brother," she murmured, "bending
low and blushing deeper.
"And he is also mine," replied Victor. "He's a stray
brother for whose return we will constantly pray with our
whole soul."
At these tender words the astonished Nnnziata glanced
earnestly at the young Christian soldier. No threatening
cloud, no perceptible expression of rancor or anger darkened
Victor's brow, and his frank open visage, breathed nothing
but love and pity, generous indulgence, and divine mercy.
Nunzinta, to get a better look at
for a moment.
him, wiped away her tears
safety.
The next day Victor received a long letter from his mother,
who said that for some days she had remarked a strange and
extremely satisfactory change in her husband's conduct. M.
Morren had pointedly betrayed, in every thing that concerned
his son, a deep estrangement, or, at least, complete indifference
; but, suddenly, he seemed to have reverted to better
CHAPTKl; Mil.
THE SPIRIT OF OOOD AND TUB SPIRIT OF EVIL.
The old castle of Schrambeck, of which we have spoken at
the outset of this story, is an antique and venerable remnant
nothing," my
hope for him? Pardon, pardon, Signer," she stammered,
perceiving atStefano's side the young foreigh Zouave, at whose
feet she threw herself, blushing and confused.
"Pray, rise, Signorina," responded Victor, painfully moved
by this huaiblo attitude, those passionate demonstrations.
"Don't I owe my safety to of the splendors of the Middle As:es.
It is a vast quadrangular building, flanked, at each of its
angles, by a large round tower, joined by a wing, iu tin' center
of the facade, with a fifth tower, an immense formidable
struotnre that looks like the eternal sentinel of theold chaN-ui,
your brother here ?"
overlooking iho .
approaches anj defending the outran.
large moat nearly surrounds, the vasi and gloomy edifice; a
very lofty i^reuulated mid turretrd wall completing the line of
defence. The rusty vanes, half bent on their rods, creak on
the tops of the turrets ; the old oaken doors are bending on
their hinges ; the walls are falling in in many places ; and
the tall weeds, sown by the breath of the tempest, wave their
green leaves from the base of the posterns to the summit of
the battlements. A p rtion of tlie old edifice is already a heap
of ruins ; and time, which is doing its work, will not be slow
to destroy what remains.
Some time before tli3 events related in the preceding chapter,
M. Morren and his friend, Ernest Van Dormael, were
"O, Signor, you're an angel," she cried, sobbing.
"
Alas ! I'm very far from resembling those pure spirits of
heaven," he replied, with a gentle, modest
"
s iiile. And
don't call me '
Signor,' I beg, but simply Victor, for I earnestly
desire that you and Stefano should regard me as a
brother. True, in a few days my duty summons me to the
camp rather far from Rome ; but I shall certainly return, and
I do hope I shall then be treated by you aa one of the family.
You'll grant me that favor, won't you, dear Stefano?"
The young Italian's only reply was a warm pressure of the
hand extended to him. Victor was not long without meeting
true friends in this new land.
Out of regard for this amiable family as well as compassion
for the wretched maniac, the young Pontifical volunteer only
disclosed the dramatic circumstances in which he thought he
would have lost his life to his cousin Joseph and the faithful
Martin, who both promised to have a watchful taking
eye to bis
a walk towards the close of day, along the hills to the
north-west of Schrambeck. Ernest had arrived the evening
before on a visit to his friend, purposing to lay a snare to
draw the proud philosophe further into the dark abyss of impiety
and error. But since his arrival he had not had an opportunity
of talking to his friend Morren alone ; so, desirous
of creating a favorable occasion for the execution of his plan,
he proposed they should take along walk together to the ruias
of the old chateau.
Now, on their way was the Chapel of Consolation where
they saw old Teresa kneeling at the threshold and praying
fervently.
" Ah ! you're thera, my good Teresa," said M. Morren,
who knew the old woman well, and never refused her an alms,
for he had an excellent heart. "And, as I perceive, always
praying. It seems, my good woman, that you've nothing else
to do than recite your Avea. "
" A poor, weak, old woman like me has nothing else to do."
she replied, rising and leaning on her crutch. "
But, do you
know" ehe continued, " for whom I am praying, just now ? '
" How should I know, my good woman ?"
" Well, I'm going to tell you. I was praying, just now,
for our children who are at Rome ;
for your Victor, Monsieur
Morren, and then for Joseph and Martin."
" Upon my faith, your poor Martin oughtn't to be very
much obliged to you. Didn't you send him there your-
sentiments, and impatiently asked to see Victor's letters to his
mother. Then he recommended his wife to write immediately
to Victor and request a prompt reply, warning his son to carefully
avoid the company of Maso if he met him, " for the latter,"
he added, "intends to injure my poor child."
Victor, overjoyed at receiving such pleasant news, hastened
to answer his dear parents, in order to dispel all their disquietnde,
and, (without, however, imforming them of the danger
he had run) completely reassured them in his regard ; for all
Maso's projects, he told them, had come to nothing and evaperated
in smoke.
But how had M. Morren been led to suddenly conceive such
a lively sob'citude in self ?"
" And do you think on account of that," she sturdily replied,
regard to his son ? And who could have
informed him of the sinister projects of the Carbonaro, who
had not announced his departure to him, and besides would
Lave taken care not to disclose his reason for going to Rome?
" that I haven't a true mother's love for my poor child?
Believe me, sir, the rich can't love their children more nor
better than the poor. And do you imagine the thought of my
dear absent son isn't enough to occupy my days and trouble
my nights, that I'm not every instant disturbed with a thousand
uneasinesses, thinking of the hazards and dangers that
await him, far from me ?"
"
Well, foolish woman," interposed Ernest, with a look of
disdain, " in that case, then, whom have you to blame but
yourself ? Isn't it you you've said so who decided him to
undertake that adventurous expedition ? Why didn't youkeep
him near you, far from hazards, far from dangers? You'd
then be spared all those useless afflictions and those barren
prayers. "
At these words old Teresa fixed one of her keen, curious
glances on the new-comer.
" Are you a Christian ?" she asked. "To hour you, one
would say you never
"
were
" One wouldn't be far out, perhaps," Ernest replied, smil-
ing disdainfully.
" In that case you'll not understand me. And yet I'll try