The Orpheus C. Kerr Papers is a Webnovel created by Robert H. Newell.
This lightnovel is currently completed.
“Fearful that, by refusing, I should again arouse him to violence, I drew my cowl closely over my head to guard against the damp air, and bade him tell me his sorrows.
“He, at once, fell upon his knees before me–nor could I persuade him to a.s.sume any other att.i.tude.
“‘Here on my knees,’ he began, ‘will I tell a tale that shall freeze your blood, and make you turn from me in scorn, or hatred. You will not betray me?’
“I a.s.sured him I would not.
“‘I am the last of a n.o.ble Florentine house, which bears the names of sovereigns upon its registers. My father was a cold, stern man, proud of his high descent, and arrogant with those beneath him. My mother was the daughter of a Venetian n.o.ble, bright and beautiful as a diamond, and insensible to all the softer warmths of women as is that precious gem. I was their only child, and all the love their hearts were capable of feeling was bestowed upon me; all my desires were gratified ere expressed; obsequious menials stood about my path eager to obey my slightest nod; velvet received my infant footsteps, and the atmosphere around me was one of mellow music.
“‘I grew up to manhood a pampered child of fortune, happy only in the midnight orgie or early morning revel, and the most polished profligate of my native city; yet my father regarded me with feelings of pride, and my mother looked upon her son as one well worthy to inherit the flaunting fortunes of his house. Although my father was ever kind to me he was subject to occasional fits of violence, when he would beat the servants, and render it necessary for his friends to confine him. It was said that he had seized a gipsey woman who had been caught in the act of stealing, causing her to be burned alive, and that while the flames were torturing the poor wretch, she had denounced her executioner with the bitterest execrations, and declared that he and his offspring should feel the curse of madness. The prophecy so worked upon my father’s mind as to occasion periodical attacks of insanity, at which seasons he would rave fearfully, and, as I said before, render temporary confinement necessary. I cannot say that the knowledge of this fact had any effect upon me then, for I was gay and thoughtless; but, alas! it has since proved my bane, and poisoned every cup that has touched my lips.
“‘Onward I flew, in a whirl of wildest dissipation, until my twenty-first birth day, when my father ordered me to meet him in the library at a certain hour. Not daring to disobey him, although I antic.i.p.ated some cutting rebuke for my late headlong course, I waited upon him at the appointed time, and was relieved when he asked me in a kind tone to take a seat near him.
“‘”Dominique,” he said, “you have now reached an age when you must give up childish follies, and be a man. You are my only son, and my t.i.tles and fortune must one day be yours. It is my hope that you may support them with honor; but, in order to do this you must take a decided step at once–you must marry.”
“‘Although arrived at that period of life when woman usually becomes the princ.i.p.al object of man’s hope and ambition, I was totally indifferent to them, and ridiculed those of my friends who had married, or, as I termed it, become slaves for life. But I knew my father’s temper too well to thwart him, and appeared to acquiesce in his designs for my future benefit. He informed me that the lady whom he had selected to be my bride, was of a n.o.ble family, and would be at our villa in a few days, when he wished me to render myself as agreeable as possible, and at once commence my wooing.
“‘I left him with a feeling of despair at being so soon obliged to give up my gay companions and become suppliant to one whom I had never before seen, and belonging to a s.e.x that I held in contempt.
“‘In my trouble I appealed to a young n.o.bleman, an a.s.sociate of mine, for advice, and he recommended that I should go abroad without my father’s knowledge–afterwards giving him my reasons for so doing in a letter, and humbly asking his forgiveness. This advice just suited my disposition, and I resolved to follow it. Accordingly I collected sufficient funds for my journey, and on the morning of the day when my intended bride was to arrive at our villa, I started with my valet for France.
“‘Upon reaching Paris I wrote to my father, declaring my determination to remain unmarried until tired of being my own master, and concluding by asking his pardon for the step which I had taken. My father did not answer this letter, and hence I supposed that he was seriously offended; but this conviction did not prey upon my mind for any length of time–indeed, I soon became more notorious in the French capital than I had been at home for unbounded extravagance and heedless dissipation. The well-known prominence and wealth of my family gained access for me to the circles of the most exclusive aristocracy. The glory and power of the unfortunate Louis and his peerless queen, Marie Antoinette, were already on the wane; yet their magnificence far eclipsed that of any other European court, and many traitors stood in the glittering throng that swarmed about them, whose meekly down-cast eyes were destined to blaze with the fires of rebellion, and whose swords were yet to flash terror into the heart of that sovereign who regarded them then as the staunchest bulwarks of his throne. With all due ceremony, I was presented to the ill-fated representatives of royalty, and quickly found myself the cynosure of all eyes, leered at by languishing dames, sneered at by those of my own s.e.x whom nature had slighted, and honored with the attention of more than one aristocrat who afterwards fell a victim to the fury of red republicanism. But the sword of Damocles was suspended over our heads, and it soon fell with a clash that aroused echoes in every corner of the globe. When first the ferocious Club proclaimed its prerogative, I joined with others in treating it as a subject beneath our notice; but, as the flames of insurrection spread, and street barricades were successfully defended against the a.s.saults of the National Guard, I began to feel the danger of being an aristocrat, and take measures for flight when events should have reached their crisis. It was too late. At the dead of night, I was aroused from my sleep by a violent uproar in the street below, accompanied by a thundering at the court yard gates of my hotel. I sprang from my couch to the window, and, with a vague apprehension of what was to come, pulled aside the curtain and looked forth. Holy Virgin! what a sight was there!–Thousands of howling demons, fast losing all semblance of humanity, surging and roaring like an infernal sea, with ghastly death-lights leaping above its waves and drowning grim shadows beneath. ‘Blood! blood!’ was their watchword, and I heard my name bandied from lip to lip, with bitter execrations. My pride was aroused, and conquered every other emotion. Hastily drawing a heavy military cloak over my head and form, I opened the cas.e.m.e.nt, and walked out upon the balcony. So completely did my garment shroud me, that the bloodhounds knew me not, and for a moment their h.e.l.lish cries sank into dead silence.
“‘”Open the gates, or we will burn you alive,” shouted a hoa.r.s.e voice.
“‘”_Vive le Roi!_” I shouted in answer.
“‘Oh, what rage there was in the yell responsive to my taunt. It seemed as though Pandemonium had sent its countless fiends to join in the chorus of brutal fury. The gates were fast yielding, and my servants were constantly reminding me with pallid faces that I was ruthlessly sacrificing their lives for my own. In a moment, my resolution was made. I hastily a.s.sumed my usual dress, and wrapping the cloak about me, went down into the court and placed myself in a dark corner.
“‘”Open the gates,” I cried, disguising my voice, and throwing it as far forward as possible.
“‘With quaking limbs, my servant obeyed the order, and in another moment, I felt the hot tide of devils bolting past me, into the elegant saloons of my hotel. So intent were the mob upon despoiling and plundering, that I was enabled to gain the street unmolested; but at that point, some enemy called my name, and with a shout of triumph, hundreds of infuriate demons started toward me. Knowing that resistance would be worse than madness, I drew my sword, and clenching it firmly in my right hand, with the point in front of me, I ran swiftly before them. Again arose the shouts, and onward came my enemies, panting for blood. Desperation gave me strength, and like a hunted deer, I far out-sped my pursuers; but human nature cannot be taxed beyond a certain point, and as I turned into the Rue St. Martin, my strength began to fail me, and my breath came hot and quick. Giving up all hope of escape and resolving to sell my life dearly, I was about to stand at bay, when an open door in a house close by caught my glance, and with the rapidity of thought, I darted through and closed it behind me. My hunters had not yet turned the corner, but I could hear their cries and with regained strength, I ascended a flight of stairs and entered an apartment, when a scream of surprise arrested my progress. A young girl stood before me with uplifted hands and astonishment painted upon every feature.
“‘”Holy Mother! What would you have, monsieur?”
“‘”I am pursued by the _canaille_, mademoiselle, and entered here to recruit my strength. I will die like a man.”
“‘”You are a royalist?”
“‘”Yes.”
“‘I turned to the door, when she eyed me closely for some moments, and then opening a closet in the wall, pointed to its interior, without speaking. I saw at once that she wished to save me, and after raising her hands to my lips in mute expression of my grat.i.tude, I entered the closet, and heard her turn the key in the lock. Almost at the same moment, loud shouts arose from the street and heavy footsteps were heard ascending the stairs.
“‘”Whose house is this?” demanded a gruff voice, as its owner apparently entered the room, in company with others.
“‘”Citizen Foliere’s,” answered my protectress, in sweet, calm tones.
“‘”Which side?”
“‘”_Vive la Republique._”
“‘”_Tres bien._ He can’t be here, comrades; he has given us the slip.
Where is your father, mademoiselle?”
“‘”He went to join in the attack on a hotel in the Rue St. Honore.”
“‘”Then he will be back soon, for the building is in flames, though its master has escaped us. Adieu, mademoiselle.”
“‘My nerves and muscles had been drawn to the last degree of tension, excitement had buoyed me up for a time; but now that my pursuers were departing and danger no longer surrounded me, a reaction took place, and I fell insensible upon the floor of my closet, while my fair jailer was in the act of liberating me.
“‘Soon a scorching heat fell upon my brain, and in fancy I returned to my father’s house. Dire shapes of blood haunted me, until I raved like a maniac and cursed the author of my being as the author of my destruction.
“‘I woke as from a dream, and found myself lying upon a soft couch, attended by a physician, and a tall, middle-aged man, wearing the red republican badge–I owed my life to one of a cla.s.s which I had ever despised. Monsieur Foliere had returned home soon after my pursuers had quitted it; and found his daughter attempting to revive me; great as was the risk he incurred by protecting a royalist, he did not hesitate to send at once for a surgeon, and order every comfort necessary to preserve my life.
“‘I endeavored to express my grat.i.tude; but the stern citizen frowned, and from that time forth, I said no more on the subject. Health slowly returned to its temple, and as it sent the warm blood tingling freshly through my veins, love mingled with the current that flowed to the heart. Cerise, my saviour, my guardian angel, hovered about my pillow like a spirit of light, awaking in my breast a pa.s.sion which had never dwelt there before. She was not what the world termed a beauty; but there was a quiet grace about her actions, and a smiling, lovely dignity ever shining from her large brown eyes, that so drew her to me, as to make me silent and melancholy when she was not present.
“‘Not to linger over a period, the purest and brightest of my existence, suffice it to say, that Cerise returned my pa.s.sion, and I was blest with her love. I told her my name, and painted the splendors of Florence, while she listened with a gentle smile of approbation, and consented to become my wife, should her father raise no objection.
“‘Antic.i.p.ating no difficulty in that quarter, my happiness was unalloyed, and I considered her as all my own. At length, when my health was fully re-established, I asked a private interview with Citizen Foliere, and demanded the hand of his daughter in marriage. I described in glowing terms my love for Cerise and her reciprocation–I spoke of my high rank in Florence, the many honors of my family, and its great antiquity; the advantages which would accrue to him from having such a son-in-law–in fact, presented my views in every light of interest and paternal affection that I could devise. The stern republican heard me through in silence, and then answered coldly–
“‘”Young man, you were received into my house, a fugitive from retributive justice, and sheltered by me at the risk of my own good name and life. I pitied your youth, and yielded my protection, when duty bade me surrender you to my friends. Would you repay me by robbing me of my richest treasure, or forever blighting her existence by arousing in her bosom a hopeless pa.s.sion? My daughter cannot be yours, though you boasted the blood of a sovereign; she shall never sit in the palaces of our oppressors. My decision is irrevocable, and this subject must be forever at rest.”
“‘Frantic with indignation and disappointment, I flew to Cerise, and with the violence of a maniac, acquainted her with my ill-success; I swore she should be mine, or I would slay myself at her feet. By turns she wept and expostulated, until I accused her of faithlessness, when she threw herself into my arms, and in an agony of tears, bade me do with her as I pleased.
“‘That night I was on my way from Paris, with my _wife_ clasped to my breast, calling down heaven’s bitterest curses upon my head, should I ever cease to love her as I then did, and kissing the hot tears from her cheeks in a burning, maddening transport of blind devotion.
“‘Oh madman! wretch that I was–why did I not fall a withered corpse at the feet of that innocent girl, who sacrificed a father’s love for me?
“‘At Genoa I purchased a villa in a retired spot, and there tasted the intoxicating joys of elysium; but fate was darkening in clouds above my head, and the bridal garlands were soon to blossom in a harvest of blood. I wrote again to my father, acquainting him with the step I had taken, and narrating my escape from death in France. An answer soon came, and in the presence of my wife I read as follows:
“‘”DOMINIQUE–Foolish boy, you have well nigh driven me to madness by your conduct, and your mother has gone to the grave a victim to the folly of her son. Come hither at once, if you would not kill me also, and behold the wreck that remains of
“‘”YOUR FATHER.”
“‘The vague tone of this communication, and the intelligence of my mother’s death, overwhelmed me with sorrow. Cerise, dear Cerise, fell upon my bosom and reproached herself as being the author of all my troubles. In vain did I try to forget my own griefs, and strive to console her; she soon became calm, but the smile of contentment no longer beamed from her eyes, and her peace was departed forever. She insisted upon obedience to my father’s request, and when I yielded, accompanied me to my native city silent and tearless.
“‘Resolving to see my father alone, I left my wife at an obscure house in the suburbs of the city, and promising to return when I had softened my parent’s wrath, I set out with a heavy heart for the home of my childhood.
“‘The servants at once recognized me, but I could only learn it from their glances, for they led the way in silence to the saloon of reception.
“‘My father was seated in a remote corner, conversing with some person when I entered, and on beholding me, at once came forward and embraced me with every token of affection. Astounded at receiving such a salute, when I expected nothing but reproach, I stood motionless, staring at him in silence, until the other person present approached. Never shall I forget the appearance of Lucia on that day. Her raven locks, falling below her waist and mingling imperceptibly with the folds of her sable robe, contrasted strikingly with the snow-white purity of her complexion, over which her piercing eyes, shed a l.u.s.tre truly spiritual. As my father introduced us, our glances met, and I felt a thrill to my inmost soul.
“‘It maddens me to dwell upon those scenes, and I will hasten to the conclusion of my story. I forgot Cerise, my honor–everything, in the society of her who had once been selected to wed with me. Day followed day until a month had elapsed, and I still remained fascinated to the spot, false to my vows, false to my wife, and true to nothing but blind infatuation. My father beheld me sinking deeper and deeper in the black waves of infamy, and a light of demoniac exultation burned in his eyes.
I marked his triumph, and I, too, felt a savage joy, though for what reason, I knew not.
“‘At length he taunted me as the husband of a lazarone. He pointed with h.e.l.lish glee to where Lucia stood, the incarnation of perfection, and bade me behold what I had lost. My brain was on fire, a thousand furies tugged at my heartstrings, and as my father clasped my hands in his and looked down into my soul, I felt that savage joy again, and a demon possessed me. My father approached his face to mine, until his hot breath burned upon my cheek, and whispered in my ear; it was enough.
With a loud laugh I left him and flew, rather than ran, to where my deserted wife was watching for me, sad and alone.