John Greenleaf Whittier - "Songs of Labor and Reform"

James Joyce - "Ulysses"

Homer - "Hesiod, The Homeric Hymns, and Homerica"

Thomas Carlyle - "History of Friedrich II of Prussia V 11"

Vendetta

M >> Marie Corelli >> Vendetta




"It is an owl," I said to myself, ashamed of my fears; "a poor
innocent bird--a companion and watcher of the dead, and therefore
its voice is full of sorrowful lamentation--but it is harmless," and
I crept on with increased caution. Suddenly out of the dense
darkness there stared two large yellow eyes, glittering with
fiendish hunger and cruelty. For a moment I was startled, and
stepped back; the creature flew at me with the ferocity of a tiger-
cat! I fought with the horrible thing in all directions; it wheeled
round my head, it pounced toward my face, it beat me with its large
wings--wings that I could feel but not see; the yellow eyes alone
shone in the thick gloom like the eyes of some vindictive demon! I
struck at it right and left--the revolting combat lasted some
moments--I grew sick and dizzy, yet I battled on recklessly. At
last, thank Heaven! the huge owl was vanquished; it fluttered
backward and downward, apparently exhausted, giving one wild screech
of baffled fury, as its lamp-like eyes disappeared in the darkness.
Breathless, but not subdued--every nerve in my body quivering with
excitement--I pursued my way, as I thought, toward the stone
staircase. feeling the air with my outstretched hands as I groped
along. In a little while I met with an obstruction--it was hard and
cold--a stone wall, surely? I felt it up and down and found a hollow
in it--was this the first step of the stair? I wondered; it seemed
very high. I touched it cautiously--suddenly I came in contact with
something soft and clammy to the touch like moss or wet velvet.
Fingering this with a kind of repulsion, I soon traced out the
oblong shape of a coffin Curiously enough, I was not affected much
by the discovery. I found myself monotonously counting the bits of
raised metal which served, as I judged, for its ornamentation. Eight
bits lengthwise--and the soft wet stuff between--four bits across;
then a pang shot through me, and I drew my hand away quickly, as I
considered--WHOSE coffin was this? My father's? Or was I thus
plucking, like a man in delirium, at the fragments of velvet on that
cumbrous oaken casket wherein lay the sacred ashes of my mother's
perished beauty? I roused myself from the apathy into which I had
fallen. All the pains I had taken to find my way through the vault
were wasted; I was lost in the profound gloom, and knew not where to
turn. The horror of my situation presented itself to me with
redoubled force. I began to be tormented with thirst. I fell on my
knees and groaned aloud.

"God of infinite mercy!" I cried. "Saviour of the world! By the
souls of the sacred dead whom Thou hast in Thy holy keeping, have
pity upon me! Oh, my mother! if indeed thine earthly remains are
near me--think of me, sweet angel in that heaven where thy spirit
dwells at rest--plead for me and save me, or let me die now and be
tortured no more!"

I uttered these words aloud, and the sound of my wailing voice
ringing through the somber arches of the vault was strange and full
of fantastic terror to my own ears. I knew that were my agony much
further prolonged I should go mad. And I dared not picture to myself
the frightful things which a maniac might be capable of, shut up in
such a place of death and darkness, with moldering corpses for
companions! I remained on my knees, my face buried in my hands. I
forced myself into comparative calmness, and strove to preserve the
equilibrium of my distracted mind. Hush! What exquisite far-off
floating voice of cheer was that? I raised my head and listened,
entranced!

"Jug, jug, Jug! lodola, lodola! trill-lil-lil! sweet, sweet, sweet!"

It was a nightingale. Familiar, delicious, angel-throated bird! How
I blessed thee in that dark hour of despair! How I praised God for
thine innocent existence! How I sprung up and laughed and wept for
joy, as, all unconscious of me, thou didst shake out a shower of
pearly warblings on the breast of the soothed air! Heavenly
messenger of consolation!--even now I think of thee with tenderness-
-for thy sweet sake all birds possess me as their worshiper;
humanity has grown hideous in my sight, but the singing-life of the
woods and hills--how pure, how fresh!--the nearest thing to
happiness on this side heaven!

A rush of strength and courage invigorated me. A new idea entered my
brain. I determined to follow the voice of the nightingale. It sung
on sweetly, encouragingly--and I began afresh my journeyings through
the darkness. I fancied that the bird was perched on one of the
trees outside the entrance of the vault, and that if I tried to get
within closer hearing of its voice, I should most likely be thus
guided to the very staircase I had been so painfully seeking. I
stumbled along slowly. I felt feeble, and my limbs shook under me.
This time nothing impeded my progress; the nightingale's liquid
notes floated nearer and nearer, and hope, almost exhausted, sprung
up again in my heart. I was scarcely conscious of my own movements.
I seemed to be drawn along like one in a dream by the golden thread
of the bird's sweet singing. All at once I caught my foot against a
stone and fell forward with some force, but I felt no pain--my limbs
were too numb to be sensible of any fresh suffering. I raised my
heavy, aching eyes in the darkness; as I did so I uttered an
exclamation of thanksgiving. A slender stream of moonlight, no
thicker than the stem of an arrow, slanted downward toward me, and
showed me that I had at last reached the spot I sought--in fact, I
had fallen upon the lowest step of the stone stairway. I could not
distinguish the entrance door of the vault, but I knew that it must
be at the summit of the steep ascent. I was too weary to move
further just then. I lay still where I was, staring at the solitary
moon-ray, and listening to the nightingale, whose rapturous melodies
now rang out upon my ears with full distinctness. ONE! The harsh-
toned bell I had heard before clanged forth the hour. It would soon
be morning; I resolved to rest till then. Utterly worn out in body
and mind, I laid down my head upon the cold stones as readily as if
they had been the softest cushions, and in a few moments forgot all
my miseries in a profound sleep.

***

I must have slumbered for some time, when I was suddenly awakened by
a suffocating sensation of faintness and nausea, accompanied by a
sharp pain on my neck as though some creatures were stinging me. I
put my hand up to the place--God! shall I ever forget the feel of
the THING my trembling fingers closed upon! It was fastened in my
flesh--a winged, clammy, breathing horror! It clung to me with a
loathly persistency that nearly drove me frantic, and wild with
disgust and terror I screamed aloud! I closed both hands
convulsively upon its fat, soft body--I literally tore it from my
flesh and flung it as far back as I could into the interior
blackness of the vault. For a time I believe I was indeed mad--the
echoes rang with the piercing shrieks I could not restrain! Silent
at last through sneer exhaustion I glared about me. The moonbeam had
vanished, in its place lay a shaft of pale gray light, by which I
could easily distinguish the whole length of the staircase and the
closed gateway it its summit. I rushed up the ascent with the
feverish haste of a madman--I grasped the iron grating with both
hands and shook it fiercely It was firm as a rock, locked fast. I
called for help. Utter silence answered me. I peered through the
closely twisted bars. I saw the grass, the drooping boughs of trees,
and straight before my line of vision a little piece of the blessed
sky, opal tinted and faintly blushing with the consciousness of the
approaching sunrise I drank in the sweet fresh air, a long trailing
branch of the wild grape vine hung near me; its leaves were covered
thickly with dew. I squeezed one hand through the grating and
gathered a few of these green morsels of coolness--I ate them
greedily. They seemed to me more delicious than any thing I had ever
tasted, they relieved the burning fever of my parched throat and
tongue. The glimpse of the trees and sky soothed and calmed me.
There was a gentle twittering of awaking birds, my nightingale had
ceased singing.

I began to recover slowly from my nervous terrors, and leaning
against the gloomy arch of my charnel house I took courage to glance
backward down the steep stairway up which I had sprung with such
furious precipitation. Something white lay in a corner on the
seventh step from the top. Curious to see what it was, I descended
cautiously and with some reluctance; it was the half of a thick
waxen taper, such as are used in the Catholic ritual at the burial
of the dead. No doubt it had been thrown down there by some careless
acolyte, to save himself the trouble of carrying it after the
service had ended. I looked at it meditatively. If I only had a
light! I plunged my hands half abstractedly into the pockets of my
trousers--something jingled! Truly they had buried me in haste. My
purse, a small bunch of keys, my card-case--one by one I drew them
out and examined them surprisedly--they looked so familiar, and
withal so strange! I searched again; and this time found something
of real value to one in my condition--a small box of wax vestas.
Now, had they left me my cigar-case? No, that was gone. It was a
valuable silver one--no doubt the monk, who attended my supposed
last moments, had taken it, together with my watch and chain, to my
wife.

Well, I could not smoke, but I could strike a light. And there was
the funeral taper ready for use. The sun had not yet risen. I must
certainly wait till broad day before I could hope to attract by my
shouts any stray person who might pass through the cemetery.
Meanwhile, a fantastic idea suggested itself. I would go and look at
my own coffin! Why not? It would be a novel experience. The sense of
fear had entirely deserted me; the possession of that box of matches
was sufficient to endow me with absolute hardihood. I picked up the
church-candle and lighted it; it gave at first a feeble flicker, but
afterward burned with a clear and steady flame. Shading it with one
hand from the draught, I gave a parting glance at the fair daylight
that peeped smilingly in through my prison door, and then went down-
-down again into the dismal place where I had passed the night in
such indescribable agony.




CHAPTER IV.


Numbers of lizards glided away from my feet as I descended the
steps, and when the flare of my torch penetrated the darkness I
heard a scurrying of wings mingled with various hissing sounds and
wild cries. I knew now--none better--what weird and abominable
things had habitation in this storehouse of the dead, but I felt I
could defy them all, armed with the light I carried. The way that
had seemed so long in the dense gloom was brief and easy, and I soon
found myself at the scene of my unexpected awakening from sleep. The
actual body of the vault was square-shaped, like a small room
inclosed within high walls--walls which were scooped out in various
places so as to form niches in which the narrow caskets containing
the bones of all the departed members of the Romani family were
placed one above the other like so many bales of goods arranged
evenly on the shelves of an ordinary warehouse. I held the candle
high above my head and looked about me with a morbid interest. I
soon perceived what I sought--my own coffin.

There it was in a niche some five feet from the ground, its
splintered portions bearing decided witness to the dreadful struggle
I had made to obtain my freedom. I advanced and examined it closely.
It was a frail shell enough--unlined, unornamented--a wretched
sample of the undertaker's art, though God knows _I_ had no fault to
find with its workmanship, nor with the haste of him who fashioned
it. Something shone at the bottom of it--it was a crucifix of ebony
and silver. That good monk again! His conscience had not allowed him
to see me buried without this sacred symbol; he had perhaps laid it
on my breast as the last service he could render me; it had fallen
from thence, no doubt, when I had wrenched my way through the boards
that inclosed me. I took it and kissed it reverently--I resolved
that if ever I met the holy father again, I would tell him my story,
and, as a proof of its truth, restore to him this cross, which he
would be sure to recognize. Had they put my name on the coffin-lid?
I wondered. Yes, there it was--painted on the wood in coarse, black
letters, "FABIO ROMANI"--then followed the date of my birth; then a
short Latin inscription, stating that I had died of cholera on
August 15, 1884. That was yesterday--only yesterday! I seemed to
have lived a century since then.

I turned to look at my father's resting-place. The velvet on his
coffin hung from its sides in moldering remnants--but it was not so
utterly damp-destroyed and worm-eaten as the soaked and
indistinguishable material that still clung to the massive oaken
chest in the next niche, where SHE lay--she from whose tender arms I
had received my first embrace--she in whose loving eyes I had first
beheld the world! I knew by a sort of instinct that it must have
been with the frayed fragments on her coffin that my fingers had
idly played in the darkness. I counted as before the bits of metal--
eight bits length-wise, and four bits across--and on my father's
close casket there were ten silver plates lengthwise and five
across. My poor little mother! I thought of her picture--it hung in
my library at home; the picture of a young, smiling, dark-haired
beauty, whose delicate tint was as that of a peach ripening in the
summer sun. All that loveliness had decayed into--what? I shuddered
involuntarily--then I knelt humbly before those two sad hollows in
the cold stone, and implored the blessing of the dead and gone
beloved ones to whom, while they lived, my welfare had been dear.
While I occupied this kneeling position the flame of my torch fell
directly on some small object that glittered with remarkable luster.
I went to examine it; it was a jeweled pendant composed of one large
pear-shaped pearl, set round with fine rose brilliants! Surprised at
this discovery, I looked about to see where such a valuable gem
could possible have come from I then noticed an unusually large
coffin lying sideways on the ground; it appeared as if it had fallen
suddenly and with force, for a number of loose stones and mortar
were sprinkled near it. Holding the light close to the ground, I
observed that a niche exactly below the one in which _I_ had been
laid was empty, and that a considerable portion of the wall there
was broken away. I then remembered that when I had sprung so
desperately out of my narrow box I had heard something fall with a
crash beside me, This was the thing, then--this long coffin, big
enough to contain a man seven feet high and broad in proportion.
What gigantic ancestor had I irreverently dislodged?--and was it
from a skeleton throat that the rare jewel which I held in my hand
had been accidentally shaken?

My curiosity was excited, and I bent close to examine the lid of
this funeral chest. There was no name on it--no mark of any sort,
save one--a dagger roughly painted in red. Here was a mystery! I
resolved to penetrate it. I set up my candle in a little crevice of
one of the empty niches, and laid the pearl and diamond pendant
beside it, thus disembarrassing myself of all incumbrance. The huge
coffin lay on its side, as I have said; its uppermost corner was
splintered; I applied both hands to the work of breaking further
asunder these already split portions. As I did so a leathern pouch
or bag rolled out and fell at my feet. I picked it up and opened it-
-it was full of gold pieces! More excited than ever, I seized a
large pointed stone, and by the aid of this extemporized instrument,
together with the force of my own arms, hands, and feet, I managed,
after some ten minutes' hard labor, to break open the mysterious
casket.

When I had accomplished this deed I stared at the result like a man
stupefied. No moldering horror met my gaze--no blanched or decaying
bones; no grinning skull mocked me with its hollow eye-sockets. I
looked upon a treasure worthy of an emperor's envy! The big coffin
was literally lined and packed with incalculable wealth. Fifty large
leathern bags tied with coarse cord lay uppermost; more than half of
these were crammed with gold coins, the rest were full of priceless
gems--necklaces, tiaras, bracelets, watches, chains, and other
articles of feminine adornment were mingled with loose precious
stones--diamonds, rubies, emeralds, and opals, some of unusual size
and luster, some uncut, and some all ready for the jeweler's
setting. Beneath these bags were packed a number of pieces of silk,
velvet, and cloth of gold, each piece being wrapped by itself in a
sort of oil-skin, strongly perfumed with camphor and other spices.
There were also three lengths of old lace, fine as gossamer, of
matchless artistic design, in perfect condition. Among these
materials lay two large trays of solid gold workmanship, most
exquisitely engraved and ornamented, also four gold drinking-cups,
of quaint and massive construction. Other valuables and curious
trifles there were, such as an ivory statuette of Psyche on a silver
pedestal, a waistband of coins linked together, a painted fan with a
handle set in amber and turquois, a fine steel dagger in a jeweled
sheath, and a mirror framed in old pearls. Last, but not least, at
the very bottom of the chest lay rolls upon rolls of paper money
amounting to some millions of francs--in all far surpassing what I
had myself formerly enjoyed from my own revenues. I plunged my hands
deep in the leathern bags; I fingered the rich materials; all this
treasure was mine! I had found it in my own burial vault! I had
surely the right to consider it as my property? I began to consider-
-how could it have been placed there without my knowledge? The
answer to this question occurred to me at once. Brigands! Of
course!--what a fool I was not to have thought of them before; the
dagger painted on the lid of the chest should have guided me to the
solution of the mystery. A red dagger was the recognized sign-manual
of a bold and dangerous brigand named Carmelo Neri, who, with his
reckless gang, haunted the vicinity of Palermo.

"So!" I thought, "this is one of your bright ideas, my cut-throat
Carmelo! Cunning rogue! you calculated well--you thought that none
would disturb the dead, much less break open a coffin in search of
gold. Admirably planned, my Carmelo! But this time you must play a
losing game! A supposed dead man coming to life again deserves
something for his trouble, and I should be a fool not to accept the
goods the gods and the robbers provide. An ill-gotten hoard of
wealth, no doubt; but better in my hands than in yours friend
Carmelo!"

And I meditated for some minutes on this strange affair If, indeed--
and I saw no reason to doubt it--I had chanced to find some of the
spoils of the redoubtable Neri, this great chest must have been
brought over by sea from Palermo. Probably four stout rascals had
carried the supposed coffin in a mock solemn procession, under the
pretense of its containing the body of a comrade. These thieves have
a high sense of humor. Yet the question remained to be solved--How
had they gained access to MY ancestral vault, unless by means of a
false key? All at once I was left in darkness, My candle went out as
though blown upon by a gust of air. I had my matches, and of course
could easily light it again, but I was puzzled to imagine the cause
of its sudden extinction. I looked about me in the temporary gloom
and saw, to my surprise, a ray of light proceeding from a corner of
the very niche where I had fixed the candle between two stones. I
approached and put my hand to the place; a strong draught blew
through a hole large enough to admit the passage of three fingers. I
quickly relighted my torch, and examining this hole and the back of
the niche attentively, found that four blocks of granite in the wall
had been removed and their places supplied by thick square logs cut
from the trunks of trees. These logs were quite loosely fitted. I
took them out easily one by one, and then came upon a close pile of
brushwood. As I gradually cleared this away a large aperture
disclosed itself wide enough for any man to pass through without
trouble. My heart beat with the rapture of expected liberty; I
clambered up--I looked--thank God! I saw the landscape--the sky! In
two minutes I stood outside the vault on the soft grass, with the
high arch of heaven above me, and the broad Bay of Naples glittering
deliciously before my eyes! I clapped my hands and shouted for pure
joy! I was free! Free to return to life, to love, to the arms of my
beautiful Nina--free to resume the pleasant course of existence on
the gladsome earth--free to forget, if I could, the gloomy horrors
of my premature burial. If Carmelo Neri had heard the blessings I
heaped upon his head--he would for once have deemed himself a saint
rather than a brigand. What did I not owe to the glorious ruffian!
Fortune and freedom! for it was evident that this secret passage
into the Romani vault had been cunningly contrived by himself or his
followers for their own private purposes. Seldom has any man been
more grateful to his best benefactor than I was to the famous thief
upon whose grim head, as I knew, a price had been set for many
months. The poor wretch was in hiding. Well! the authorities should
get no aid from me, I resolved; even if I were to discover his
whereabouts. Why should I betray him? He had unconsciously done more
for me than my best friend. Nay, what friends will you find at all
in the world when you need substantial good? Few, or none. Touch the
purse--test the heart!

What castles in the air I built as I stood rejoicing in the morning
light and my newly acquired liberty--what dreams of perfect
happiness flitted radiantly before my fancy! Nina and I would love
each other more fondly than before, I thought--our separation had
been brief, but terrible--and the idea of what it might have been
would endear us to one another with tenfold fervor. And little
Stella! Why--this very evening I would swing her again under the
orange boughs and listen to her sweet shrill laughter! This very
evening I would clasp Guido's hand in a gladness too great for
words! This very night my wife's fair head would lie pillowed on my
breast in an ecstatic silence broken only by the music of kisses.
Ah! my brain grew dizzy with the joyful visions that crowded thickly
and dazzlingly upon me! The sun had risen--his long straight beams,
like golden spears, touched the tops of the green trees, and roused
little flashes as of red and blue fire on the shining surface of the
bay. I heard the rippling of water and the measured soft dash of
oars; and somewhere from a distant boat the mellifluous voice of a
sailor sung a verse of the popular ritornello--

"Sciore d'amenta
Sta parolella mia tieul' ammento
Zompa llari llira!
Sciore limone!
Le voglio fa mori de passione
Zompa llari llira!"
[Footnote: Neapolitan dialect]

I smiled--"Mori de passione!" Nina and I would know the meaning of
those sweet words when the moon rose and the nightingales sung their
love-songs to the dreaming flowers! Full of these happy fancies, I
inhaled the pure morning air for some minutes, and then re-entered
the vault.




CHAPTER V.


The first thing I did was to repack all the treasures I had
discovered. This work was easily accomplished. For the present I
contented myself with taking two of the leathern bags for my own
use, one full of gold pieces, the other of jewels. The chest had
been strongly made, and was not much injured by being forced open. I
closed its lid as tightly as possible, and dragged it to a remote
and dark corner of the vault, where I placed three heavy stones upon
it. I then took the two leathern pouches I had selected, and stuffed
one in each of the pockets of my trousers. The action reminded me of
the scantiness of attire in which I stood arrayed. Could I be seen
in the public roads in such a plight? I examined my purse, which, as
I before stated, had been left to me, together with my keys and
card-case, by the terrified persons who had huddled me into my
coffin with such scant ceremony. It contained two twenty-franc
pieces and some loose silver. Enough to buy a decent costume of some
sort. But where could I make the purchase, and how? Must I wait till
evening and slink out of this charnel-house like the ghost of a
wretched criminal? No! come what would, I made up my mind not to
linger a moment longer in the vault. The swarms of beggars that
infest Naples exhibit themselves in every condition of rags, dirt,
and misery; at the very worst I could only be taken for one of them.
And whatever difficulties I might encounter, no matter!--they would
soon be over.

Satisfied that I had placed the brigand coffin in a safe position, I
secured the pearl and diamond pendant I had first found, to the
chain round my neck. I intended this ornament as a gift for my wife.
Then, once more climbing through the aperture, I closed it
completely with the logs and brushwood as it was before, and
examining it narrowly from the outside, I saw that it was utterly
impossible to discern the smallest hint of any entrance to a
subterranean passage, so well and cunningly had it been contrived.
Now, nothing more remained for me to do but to make the best of my
way to the city, there to declare my identity, obtain food and
clothes, and then to hasten with all possible speed to my own
residence.

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