Wagner, the Wehr-Wolf Part 18

There was something so awful--so appalling--in this strange conduct on the part of the nuns, that Flora began to doubt whether she were not laboring under some terrible delusion. She feared lest her senses were leaving her: and, covering her face with her hands, so as to close her eyes against external objects, she endeavored to look inward, as it were, and scrutinize her own soul.

But she was not allowed time to reflect; for the three nuns seized upon her, the foremost saying, "You must come with us!"

"Mercy! mercy!" screamed the wretched girl, vainly struggling in the powerful grasp of the recluses.

Her long hair, which she had unbraided before she was carried off from the Riverola mansion, floated over her shoulders, and enhanced the expression of ineffable despair which her pallid countenance now wore.

Wildly she glanced around, as she was being hurried from the room; and frantic screams escaped her lips. But there was no one nigh to succor--no one to melt at the outbursts of her anguis.h.!.+

The three nuns dragged, rather than conducted her to an adjacent apartment, which was lighted by a lamp of astonis.h.i.+ng brilliancy, and hung in a skylight raised above the roof.

On the floor, immediately beneath this lamp, stood an armchair of wicker-work; and from this chair two stout cords ascended to the ceiling, through which they pa.s.sed by means of two holes perforated for the purpose.

When Flora was dragged by the nuns to the immediate vicinity of the chair, which her excited imagination instantly converted into an engine of torture, that part of the floor on which the chair stood seemed to tremble and oscillate beneath her feet, as if it were a trap-door.

The most dreadful sensations now came over her: she felt as if her brain was reeling--as if she must go mad.

A fearful scream burst from her lips, and she struggled with the energy of desperation, as the nuns endeavored to thrust her into the chair.

"No--no!" she exclaimed, frantically; "you shall not torture me--you dare not murder me! What have I done to merit this treatment! Mercy!

mercy!"

But her cries and her struggles were alike useless; for she was now firmly bound to the chair, into which the nuns had forced her to seat herself.

Then commenced the maddening scene which will be found in the ensuing chapter.

CHAPTER XIX.

THE DESCENT--THE CHAMBER OF PENITENCE.

Having bound Flora Francatelli to the chair in the manner just described, the three nuns fell back a few paces, and the wretched girl felt the floor giving way under her.

A dreadful scream burst from her lips, as slowly--slowly the chair sank down, while the working of hidden machinery in the roof, and the steady, monotonous revolution of wheels, sounded with ominous din upon her ears.

An icy stream appeared to pour over her soul; wildly she cast around her eyes, and then more piercing became her shrieks, as she found herself gradually descending into what seemed to be a pit or well--only that it was square instead of round.

The ropes creaked--the machinery continued its regular movement, and the lamp fixed in the skylight overhead became less and less brilliant.

And bending over the mouth of this pit into which she was descending were the three nuns--standing motionless and silent like hideous specters, on the brink of the aperture left by the square platform or trap, whereon the chair was fixed.

"Mercy! Mercy!" exclaimed Flora, in a voice expressive of the most acute anguish.

And stretching forth her snowy arms (for it was round the waist and by the feet that she was fastened to the chair), she convulsively placed her open palms against the wooden walls of the pit, as if she could by that spasmodic movement arrest the descent of the terrible apparatus that was bearing her down into that hideous, unknown gulf! But the walls were smooth and even, and presented nothing whereon she could fix her grasp.

Her brain reeled, and for a few minutes she sat motionless, in dumb, inert despair.

Then again, in obedience to some mechanical impulse, she glanced upward; the light of the lamp was now dimly seen, like the sun through a dense mist--but the dark figures were still bending over the brink of the abyss, thirty yards above.

The descent was still progressing and the noise of the machinery still reached her ears, with buzzing, humming, monotonous indistinctness.

She shrieked not now--she screamed not any more; but it was not resignation that sealed her lips;--it was despair!

Suddenly she became aware of the gradual disappearance of the three nuns; as she descended, the wall seemed to rise slowly upward and cover them from her view.

Then, for an instant there was a slight shock given to the platform whereon the chair was placed--as if it rested on something beneath.

But no;--the fearful descent still went on--for, when she again stretched forth her hand to touch the walls, they appeared to be slowly rising--rising!

She was now involved in almost total darkness; but far--far overhead the dim l.u.s.ter of the lamp was seen; and the four walls of the gulf now appeared to touch the ceiling of the room above, and to inclose that faint but still distinct orb within the narrow s.p.a.ce thus shut in.

The noise of the machinery also reached her still--but merely with a humming sound that was only just audible.

For an instant she doubted whether she was still descending; but, alas!

when her arms were a third time convulsively stretched forth, her fair hands felt the walls slipping away from her touch--gliding upward, as it were, with steady emotion.

Then she knew that the descent had not ceased.

But whither was she going? to what awful depth was she progressing?

Already she conjectured, was she at least sixty yards beneath that dim yellow orb which every instant appeared to s.h.i.+ne as through a deeper, deepening mist.

For what fate was she reserved? and where was she?

Suddenly it struck her that she was an inmate of the Carmelite Convent; for the rumors alluded to in a preceding chapter had often met her ears; and her imagination naturally a.s.sociated them with the occurrences of that dreadful night.

The piercing shrieks--the noise of machinery--the disappearance from time to time of some member of that monastic inst.i.tution, all the incidents, in fine, to which those rumors had ever pointed, now seemed to apply to her own case.

These reflections flashed, with lightning rapidity, through her brain, and paralyzed her with horror.

Then she lost all further power of thought; and though not absolutely fainting, she was stunned and stupefied with the tremendous weight of overwhelming despair.

How long she remained in this condition she knew not; but she was suddenly aroused by the opening of a low door in the wall in front of her.

Starting as from a dreadful dream, she stretched forth her arms, and became aware that the descent had stopped; and at the same moment she beheld a nun, bearing a lamp, standing on the threshold of the door which had just opened.

"Sister, welcome to the chamber of penitence!" said the recluse, approaching the terrified Flora.

Then, placing the lamp in a niche near the door, the nun proceeded to remove the cords which fastened the young maiden to the chair.

Flora rose, but fell back again on the seat--for her limbs were stiff in consequence of the length of time they had been retained in one position. The nun disappeared by the little door for a few minutes; and, on her return, presented the wretched girl a cup of cold water. Flora swallowed the icy beverage, and felt refreshed.

Then, by the light of the lamp in the niche, she hastily examined the countenance of the nun; but its expression was cold--repulsive--stern: and Flora knew that it was useless to seek to make a friend of her.

A frightful sense of loneliness, as it were, struck her like an ice-shaft penetrating to her very soul; and clasping her hands together, she exclaimed: "Holy Virgin! protect me!"