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he Weekly Movelette.
VOLUME VI.—NUMBER 6.
BOSTON, SATURDAY, OCTOBER 22, 1859.
PRICE FOUR CENTS.
AN
Ben PUA
| ——
[Drawn and engraved expressly for The Weekly Novelette.]
[Entered according to Act of Congress in the Clerk's Office ot the
District Court of Massachusetts.]
THE UNKNOWN MASK:
THE BELLE OF MADRID.
A TALE OF SPAIN AND THE SPANISH.
BY LIEUTENANT MURRAY
{concLuDED.]
CHAPTER XVII.
RENEWAL OF THE COUNT’S SINGULAR CONFESSION,
Tur pretended priest, after leaving Count d’Aranda,
passed into his own apartment, and dropping the dis-
guise he had worn, hastened forth to inquire the mean-
ing of that bugle call that had interrupted his visit to
the count. He found a body of his men jast come in,
bringing with them a prisoner, of one of whom the
lieutenant of the band could give no account, except
that he was a suspicious person who was following an
unusual track in the mountain passes, and who refused
to give any account of himself, and indeed offering
such resistance to those who captured him, as to render
the daty no slight operation in point of physical effort.
Ordering him to be confined in a secure place until he
should find time to examine him, Rojas returned once
more to the Count d’Aranda, though not until he had
resumed his priestly garments.
“It was not my party,” said the priest, as he en-
tered. “I shall be at liberty for some hours to come,
without doubt.”
“ Shall I proceed ?” asked the count.
“Go on,” said the priest, resuming an attitude of
listening.
“T was speaking of the misery that I experienced
respecting the infidelity of my wife. I was jealous of
SSS
e
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aN
S Lis
Ag
LOUIS GONZAGA DISCLOSING: HIMSELF TO ISABELLA.
every one, and could take no pleasure in any society
save that of my little daughter, with whom I used to
wander far away from home, to enjoy her innocent
gambols upon the green sward, or pass my time in
teaching her young mind its first aspirations for good
and great objects. It was my only pleasure, and save
that, Iswas too miserable to live Indeed, but for
Isabella, I should have taken my own life and ended
the misery I endured. I met my wife coldly. I looked
upon every one with suspicion. I could not bear to be
spoken to. In short, I was little better than a man
bereft of reason altogether. In vain were all the efforts
of Irene to restore our former state of regard and con-
fidence. It could not be done, and I shunned her
altogether.
“ At last a vague suspicion entered my disordered
brain that my pretended friend, Carlo Anselmo, was he
who so deeply wronged me. Who else could it be, I
reasoned with myself; and in my state of irritability I
soon came most solemnly to believe that he was the
man. I watched his every movement, ay, his very
sleep! I have sat by his bedside at the dead of night
and watched him in his dreams! and tried to divine
and understand the expression of his face when sleep
left it unguarded. And more than once have I stood
there with my stiletto already drawn, while the prompt-
ings of a murderer ravaged my heart. My suspicions
ripened, though without evidence, until I firmly believed
that Carlo Anselmo had betrayed my wife’s honor !
“About this period Irene and myself met one day in
the reception-hall. She was sad, for she realized fully
the great change that had taken place in our relation-
ship, but she spoke to me fair and kindly as she had
ever done; it was something relating to our child.
heeded not her words, but full of :he agony that filled
my veins, I broke forth furiously, and my long pent up
feelings burst out in an uncontrollable torrent, and for
the first time I charged her in words, of having been
unfaithful to me. Ay, and of foul sin with Carlo
Anselmo !
“* Husband,’ said she, lifting her hands to heaven,
“Tam innocent, upon my soul !”
“*T believe you not; who that coald be so guilty
could speak the truth ’
“God forgive you !’ she said, turning deadly pale as
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PEIECE
[See page 83 ]
she spoke in agony of heart, and fell senseless upon the
marble floor !
“T did not even help to raise her body from the
floor, but leaving her to the care of the hired menials, I
speedily hastened away from a home that was no longer
one to me, but rather a purgatory upon earth; a lazar
house of horrors. I wandered I know not where. I
I think that I lost some days in mental oblivion; my
brain so thoroughly shrouded the while that I have no
memory of the period. I did not return for weeks, and
when at last I did so, it was to see Carlo Anselmo doing
all in his power for the comfort of my wife; who was
lying dangerously ill of a fever caused by the harshness
of my conduct to her at our parting. I had never
spoken to him. I know not why, but as I look back
upon these things now, I wonder that I did not do many
things differently. His very assiduity to serve the in-
terest of my household, and the comfort of Irene, con-
duced to madden my jealousy the more, and in every
act of kindness, I read a mercenary and degrading
motive.
“Tn proportion as my frenzy grew towards those
whom | supposed had so deeply wronged me, so my
love for our dear little Isabella revived and strength-
ened, until I believe that I fairly idolized her. We
walked together, rode together, read together, hardly a
moment were we separate from each other, and she
skowed a love for me that was the only balm my
wounded heart could know, bereft of its mate, her
mother.
“At last I had a dream, a maddening dream; one
that set my very blood on fire. It pictured Anselmo
and Irene together, gazing on each other with looks of
undisguised love. I rose, knowing it was but a dream,
the progeny of my-disordered fancy, and tried to walk
away the impression it had made upon me. But it was
in vain, and the picture was stamped as though by a
heated iron, upon my heart. It was now the after part
of the day, and I was taking my accustomed walk
along the river’s side, singularly at this time without
Isabella. Just as the sun was setting, I met Carlo
Anselmo on the narrow path of the river’s bank., The
path we both trod was so very narrow, and upon the
very edge of the swift running stream, that one or the
other myst turn out to give room to pass, We were
rey Te cate
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Senne?
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