LITMIR.BIZ

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anybody lie in the chamber beneath?” said the princess.

      “Nobody has dared to lie there,” answered Bianca, “since the great astrologer, that was your brother’s tutor, drowned himself. For certain, madam, his ghost and the young prince’s are now met in the chamber below; for Heaven’s sake let us fly to your mother’s apartment!”

      “I charge you not to stir,” said Matilda. “If they are spirits in pain, we may ease their sufferings by questioning them. They can mean no hurt to us, for we have not injured them; and if they should, shall we be more safe in one chamber than in another? Reach me my beads; we will say a prayer, and then speak to them.”

      “Oh, dear lady, I would not speak to a ghost for the world,” cried Bianca. As she said these words, they heard the casement of the little chamber below Matilda’s open. They listened attentively, and in a few minutes thought they heard a person sing, but could not distinguish the words.

      “This can be no evil spirit,” said the princess, in a low voice: “it is undoubtedly one of the family—open the window, and we shall know the voice.”

      “I dare not, indeed, madam,” said Bianca.

      “Thou art a very fool,” said Matilda, opening the window gently herself. The noise that the princess made was, however, heard by the person beneath, who stopped, and they concluded had heard the casement open.

      “Is anybody below?” said the princess: “if there is, speak.”

      “Yes,” said an unknown voice.

      “Who is it?” said Matilda.

      “A stranger,” replied the voice.

      “What stranger?” said she, “and how didst thou come here at this unusual hour, when all the gates of the castle are locked?”

      “I am not here willingly,” answered the voice; “but pardon me, lady, if I have disturbed your rest: I knew not that I was overheard. Sleep has forsaken me: I left a restless couch, and came to waste the irksome hours with gazing on the fair approach of morning, impatient to be dismissed from this castle.”

      “Thy words and accents,” said Matilda, “are of a melancholy cast: if thou art unhappy, I pity thee. If poverty afflicts thee, let me know it: I will mention thee to the princess, whose beneficent soul ever melts for the distressed; and she will relieve thee.”

      “I am, indeed, unhappy,” said the stranger, “and I know not what wealth is; but I do not complain of the lot which Heaven has cast for me. I am young and healthy and am not ashamed of owing my support to myself; yet think me not proud, or that I disdain your generous offers. I will remember you in my orisons, and I will pray for blessings on your gracious self and your noble mistress—if I sigh, lady, it is for others, not for myself.”

      “Now I have it, madam,” said Bianca, whispering the princess. “This is certainly the young peasant; and, by my conscience, he is in love:—well, this is a charming adventure! Do, madam, let us sift him. He does not know you, but takes you for one of my Lady Hippolita’s women.”

      “Art thou not ashamed, Bianca?” said the princess. “What right have we to pry into the secrets of this young man’s heart? He seems virtuous and frank, and tells us he is unhappy. Are those circumstances that authorize us to make a property of him? How are we entitled to his confidence?”

      “Lord! madam, how little you know of love!” replied Bianca: “why, lovers have no pleasure equal to talking of their mistress.”

      “And would you have me become a peasant’s confidant?” said the princess.

      “Well, then, let me talk to him,” said Bianca: “though I have the honour of being your highness’s maid of honour, I was not always so great. Besides, if love levels ranks, it raises them too: I have a respect for a young man in love.”

      “Peace, simpleton,” said the princess. “Though he said he was unhappy, it does not follow that he must be in love. Think of all that has happened to-day, and tell me, if there are no misfortunes but what love causes.—Stranger,” resumed the princess, “if thy misfortunes have not been occasioned by thy own fault, and are within the compass of the Princess Hippolita’s power to redress, I will take upon me to answer that she will be thy protectress. When thou art dismissed from this castle, repair to holy Father Jerome, at the convent adjoining to the church of St. Nicholas, and make thy story known to him, as far as thou thinkest meet. He will not fail to inform the princess, who is the mother of all that want her assistance. Farewell! It is not seemly for me to hold further converse with a man at this unwonted hour.”

      “May the saints guard thee, gracious lady!” replied the peasant; “but, oh! if a poor and worthless stranger might presume to beg a minute’s audience further—am I so happy?—the casement is not shut—might I venture to ask——”

      “Speak quickly,” said Matilda; “the morning dawns apace; should the labourers come into the fields and perceive us—what wouldst thou ask?”

      “I know not how—I know not if I dare,” said the young stranger, faltering; “yet the humanity with which you have spoken to me emboldens—lady, dare I trust you?”

      “Heavens,” said Matilda, “what dost thou mean? with what wouldst thou trust me?—speak boldly, if thy secret is fit to be entrusted to a virtuous breast.”

      “I would ask,” said the peasant, recollecting himself, “whether what I have heard from the domestics is true, that the princess is missing from the castle.”

      “What imports it to thee to know?” replied Matilda: “thy first words bespoke a prudent and becoming gravity. Dost thou come hither to pry into the secrets of Manfred? Adieu. I have been mistaken in thee.” Saying these words, she shut the casement hastily, without giving the young man time to reply.

      “I had acted more wisely,” said the princess to Bianca, with some sharpness, “if I had let thee converse with this peasant: his inquisitiveness seems of a piece with thy own.”

      “It is not fit for me to argue with your highness,” replied Bianca; “but perhaps the questions I should have put to him would have been more to the purpose than those you have been pleased to ask him.”

      “Oh, no doubt,” said Matilda; “you are a very discreet personage! may I know what you would have asked him?”

      “A bystander often sees more of the game than those that play,” answered Bianca. “Does your highness think, madam, that his question about my Lady Isabella was the result of mere curiosity? No, no, madam; there is more in it than you great folks are aware of. Lopez told me, that all the servants believe this young fellow contrived my Lady Isabella’s escape—now, pray, madam, observe—you and I both know that my Lady Isabella never much fancied the prince your brother—well, he is killed just in the critical minute—I accuse nobody. A helmet falls from the moon—so my lord, your father, says; but Lopez and all the servants say, that this young spark is a magician, and stole it from Alfonso’s tomb.”

      “Have done with this rhapsody of impertinence,” said Matilda.

      “Nay, madam, as you please,” cried Bianca; “yet it is very particular, though, that my Lady Isabella should be missing the very same day, and that this young sorcerer should be found at the mouth of the trap-door—I accuse nobody—but if my young lord came honestly by his death——”

      “Dare not, on thy duty,” said Matilda, “to breathe a suspicion on the purity of my dear Isabella’s fame.”

      “Purity or not purity,” said Bianca, “gone she is—a stranger is found that nobody knows. You question him yourself. He tells you he is in love, or unhappy, it is the same thing—nay, he owned he was unhappy about others; and is anybody unhappy about another unless they are in love with them? and at the very next word he asks innocently, poor soul, if my Lady Isabella is missing.”

      “To be sure,” said Matilda, “thy observations are not totally without foundation;

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