A Sicilian Romance

Before he had proceeded far the light disappeared. He continued,

however, his way as nearly as he could guess, towards the place whence

it had issued; and after much toil, found himself in a spot where the

trees formed a circle round a kind of rude lawn. The moonlight

discovered to him an edifice which appeared to have been formerly a

monastery, but which now exhibited a pile of ruins, whose grandeur,

heightened by decay, touched the beholder with reverential awe.

Hippolitus paused to gaze upon the scene; the sacred stillness of

night increased its effect, and a secret dread, he knew not wherefore,

stole upon his heart.

The silence and the character of the place made him doubt whether this

was the spot he had been seeking; and as he stood hesitating whether

to proceed or to return, he observed a figure standing under an

arch-way of the ruin; it carried a light in its hand, and passing

silently along, disappeared in a remote part of the building. The

courage of Hippolitus for a moment deserted him. An invincible

curiosity, however, subdued his terror, and he determined to pursue,

if possible, the way the figure had taken.

He passed over loose stones through a sort of court till he came to

the archway; here he stopped, for fear returned upon him. Resuming his

courage, however, he went on, still endeavouring to follow the way the

figure had passed, and suddenly found himself in an enclosed part of

the ruin, whose appearance was more wild and desolate than any he had

yet seen. Seized with unconquerable apprehension, he was retiring,

when the low voice of a distressed person struck his ear. His heart

sunk at the sound, his limbs trembled, and he was utterly unable to

move. The sound which appeared to be the last groan of a dying person, was

repeated. Hippolitus made a strong effort, and sprang forward, when a

light burst upon him from a shattered casement of the building, and at

the same instant he heard the voices of men!

He advanced softly to the window, and beheld in a small room, which

was less decayed than the rest of the edifice, a group of men, who,

from the savageness of their looks, and from their dress, appeared to

be banditti. They surrounded a man who lay on the ground wounded, and

bathed in blood, and who it was very evident had uttered the groans

heard by the count.

The obscurity of the place prevented Hippolitus from distinguishing

the features of the dying man. From the blood which covered him, and

from the surrounding circumstances, he appeared to be murdered; and

the count had no doubt that the men he beheld were the murderers. The

horror of the scene entirely overcame him; he stood rooted to the

spot, and saw the assassins rifle the pockets of the dying person,

who, in a voice scarcely articulate, but which despair seemed to aid,

supplicated for mercy. The ruffians answered him only with

execrations, and continued their plunder. His groans and his

sufferings served only to aggravate their cruelty. They were

proceeding to take from him a miniature picture, which was fastened

round his neck, and had been hitherto concealed in his bosom; when by

a sudden effort he half raised himself from the ground, and attempted

to save it from their hands. The effort availed him nothing; a blow

from one of the villains laid the unfortunate man on the floor without

motion.