A Sicilian Romance

In turning up the ground of the cell, it was discovered that it

communicated with the dungeon in which Ferdinand had been confined,

and where he had heard those groans which had occasioned him so much

terror. The story which the marquis formerly related to his son, concerning

the southern buildings, it was now evident was fabricated for the

purpose of concealing the imprisonment of the marchioness. In the

choice of his subject, he certainly discovered some art; for the

circumstance related was calculated, by impressing terror, to prevent

farther enquiry into the recesses of these buildings. It served, also,

to explain, by supernatural evidence, the cause of those sounds, and

of that appearance which had been there observed, but which were, in

reality, occasioned only by the marquis.

The event of the examination in the cell threw Ferdinand into new

perplexity. The marquis had confessed that he poisoned his wife--yet

her remains were not to be found; and the place which he signified to

be that of her confinement, bore no vestige of her having been there.

There appeared no way by which she could have escaped from her prison;

for both the door which opened upon the cell, and that which

terminated the avenue beyond, were fastened when tried by Ferdinand.

But the young marquis had no time for useless speculation--serious

duties called upon him. He believed that Julia was still in the power

of banditti; and, on the conclusion of his father's funeral, he set

forward himself to Palermo, to give information of the abode of the

robbers, and to repair with the officers of justice, accompanied by a

party of his own people, to the rescue of his sister. On his arrival

at Palermo he was informed, that a banditti, whose retreat had been

among the ruins of a monastery, situated in the forest of Marentino,

was already discovered; that their abode had been searched, and

themselves secured for examples of public justice--but that no captive

lady had been found amongst them. This latter intelligence excited in

Ferdinand a very serious distress, and he was wholly unable to

conjecture her fate. He obtained leave, however, to interrogate those

of the robbers, who were imprisoned at Palermo, but could draw from

them no satisfactory or certain information.

At length he quitted Palermo for the forest of Marentino, thinking it

possible that Julia might be heard of in its neighbourhood. He

travelled on in melancholy and dejection, and evening overtook him

long before he reached the place of his destination. The night came on

heavily in clouds, and a violent storm of wind and rain arose. The

road lay through a wild and rocky country, and Ferdinand could obtain

no shelter. His attendants offered him their cloaks, but he refused to

expose a servant to the hardship he would not himself endure. He

travelled for some miles in a heavy rain; and the wind, which howled

mournfully among the rocks, and whose solemn pauses were filled by the

distant roarings of the sea, heightened the desolation of the scene.

At length he discerned, amid the darkness from afar, a red light

waving in the wind: it varied with the blast, but never totally

disappeared. He pushed his horse into a gallop, and made towards it.