either to leave me a wretch unworthy ofexistence, or to raise me from despair, and grant me blissincomparable."
"I dare not, I must not, understand the meaning of your strangeexpressions," said Donna Agnes, her hand, which rested on thebalustrade, slightly trembling. "Let me entreat you, senhor, to leaveme. I would not be the unhappy cause of your ruin."
"You, you alone, can be the cause of my salvation," exclaimed the youth,with enthusiastic passion. "Donna Agnes, I love you."
"In mercy to yourself--to me, do not say so," faltered the young lady.
"My spirit would not rest, when I am in the grave, had I not declaredthe love I bear you," exclaimed the Secretary.
"Oh no, no; it must not be thus! Say you will not utter those wordsagain, and I will endeavour to forget what you have said. You cannotknow my father, if you think that he would let me listen to suchdeclarations," answered Donna Agnes.
"I know him well--he has ever been my benefactor, and I would show mygratitude," responded the youth.
"Then, as you value his favour, do not renew this conversation. It hascaused me much pain already," said Donna Agnes.
"I cannot longer conceal the consuming love I feel for you," exclaimedthe Secretary. "Can you, in return, hate me for it?"
"Oh no, no," responded Donna Agnes.
"Will you, can you love me, then?" exclaimed the youth. "Will you grantme but one hope to endure existence?"
The colour forsook the fair cheek of the Minister's daughter; her bosomheaved, and her eyes sunk to the ground.
"Oh leave me, leave me, Senhor Alfonzo!" she cried. "These words arecruelty to me and to yourself. It cannot be. My father esteems you,and confides in you; but, did he suspect what you have told me, hisanger would be aroused to a pitch you little dream of, and of my hand hehas already determined the disposal; but I shall ever regard you as afriend."
"Then were you free, you might, you would love me?" exclaimed theinfatuated youth. "Donna Agnes, you do love me?--utter but the word,and no power shall tear you from me."
"This conduct is ungenerous, unworthy of you," responded Donna Agnes."I would not speak harshly to you; but you drive me to it. Fromhenceforth, I must fly your presence. Again I ask you to leave me. Inever can be yours."
"Then you have sealed my doom and your father's,--his death be upon yourhead, cruel girl!" ejaculated the Secretary, as he rushed from the spotwhere they stood, and hastened to the royal palace.
"Oh stay, stay!" cried the young lady, alarmed at his agitated look, andextraordinary violence; "what mean you?" but he was gone; and, placingher fair young face in her hands, she wept bitterly.
Poor girl, she had never before been told by any one that she wasbeloved; and for two years past daily had she seen the young andhandsome Secretary, who, grave and reserved as he was towards others,could teach his tongue to utter the softest eloquence to her; and whenhis eye met hers, his whole countenance would beam with animation,--yetshe had performed her duty to her father, and promised to marry whoeverhe might select. He had made his choice, and she must abide by it.
The Secretary hastened to the cabinet in the palace, where the Ministeralways employed him; but the latter had not arrived. He first openedsome papers on which he was employed, and then examined every corner ofthe room with the utmost care. His naturally pallid cheek was morebloodless than usual; his hands trembled; his eyes cast furtive glancesaround, even though he had convinced himself no one was present. Everyinstant he started,--his knees knocked together; but still he went aboutthe work he had vowed to perform: his determination was strong, thoughhis frame was weak. A small ewer of water, with a tumbler, stood on atable, on one side of the closet. He eyed it for some time, with hishand grasping the back of a chair, to give himself support--his breathcame and went quickly. At length he approached it--for an instant hebent over it--he drew from his bosom a small packet--he tore it open,and poured a powder it contained into the ewer, then, securing the emptypaper beneath his dress, he waited another minute without moving. Sopale was his cheek, so rigid did he stand, that he looked more like somestatue of bronze or marble, than a living man. Again he started, andseizing the ewer, he poured some of its contents into the tumbler: theliquid was pure and sparkling as crystal. He heaved a deep, long-drawnsigh, and turned away; but there was a fascination in that fatal goblet!Again and again were his eyes attracted by it, till the orbs almoststarted from his head--his lips were parched--there was fire in hisbrain, yet his heart was as ice. The first fatal step was made! therest was easy. He endeavoured to collect his thoughts--to grow calm,and reason with himself. What had he done? He had committed nocrime,--no one had suffered by his hand,--he was not a murderer! Oh no.Then why this abject fear? He attempted to smile at his firstsensations,--he recalled all the rules with which he had been taught toreason at college; all the later lessons he had received from the FatherJacinto, and he was successful. He sought to reason against conviction.The struggle was severe,--intellect (he called it) against conscience;and intellect was the victor! Yes, the victor! But how long would itremain so? He knew not what an active, harassing enemy wasconscience,--how it seizes on its victim in the dead of night,--how itrushes on him, when laid prostrate by disease and sickness! Then whichis the victor? Then does it take ample vengeance on intellect for itsformer defeat.
The apt pupil of the Father Jacinto da Costa now seated himself calmly,to finish the copy of a despatch on which he had been employed. He thenarose, and taking a key, which hung suspended from his neck, beneath hisclothes, he approached the Minister's private cabinet. He opened it,and searched carefully among the papers, endeavouring to replace each ashe found them. At last he came to one, which he seized eagerly; andrunning his eye over it, he carried it to his desk, rapidly makingextracts from it, and placed the paper which he had written in hisbosom. With the one he had taken he returned to the cabinet, kneelingto restore it to the spot it had occupied, and to search for another.Deeply absorbed, his eye running over paper after paper, he heard notthe door open. A hand was laid heavily on his shoulder; he started, asif it had been a hand of fire, and, gazing upward, he beheld the sternfeatures of the Minister! The paper he held dropped from his grasp,--despair was marked on every lineament of his countenance, and, tremblingand pale, he would have sunk on the ground, but that an arm of ironupheld him.
"Fool!" said the Minister. "Is it thus you return my confidence? Haveyou before betrayed the secrets of this cabinet? Speak! You answernot,--your silence is a confession of your guilt. Behold yon brightsun--'tis the last time its beams will glad your sight; for know, he whopossesses the secrets of Carvalho must be surrounded by stronger wallsthan his own bosom affords; the deepest dungeon in the Jungueira willhenceforward be your abode." The Minister withdrew his hand.
"Stir not," he added, as he walked towards the door, to summon someattendants who were without. At first they did not hear his voice, andhe was obliged to go to the end of the passage again to call them. Theyrushed up hastily, and followed Carvalho to the apartment. On entering,the young Secretary was discovered stretched on the ground in a swoon,it seemed, close to the open cabinet. They raised him up, andendeavoured to restore animation, while the Minister went to his desk,and wrote a few lines.
"When he revives, bear him hence," he said, "and deliver this paper toSenhor Fonseca;" and, without appearing to pay further attention to whatwas going forward, he continued writing.
The endeavours of the attendants were soon successful, for the unhappyyouth opened his eyes, gazing wildly at those surrounding him. "Water!water!" he murmured.
One of the men, observing the ewer on the table, pouring out atumbler-full, brought it to him, and placed it to his lips--he eagerlydrank off the cooling draught. They threw some on his head, to cool hisbrow, and again gave him to drink. The water completely restored him,and, as they led him away, he ventured not to turn his eye towards theman he had deceived; but, as he passed the door, his glance fell on thefatal ewer. A thought li
ke the vivid lightning, scorching all in itspath, crossed his mind. Had he been given to drink of the poisonedwater? Impossible! He felt no ill effects from it; but he dared notask the question.
That night the young Alfonzo, the highly endowed in mind and person, layon a wretched pallet, chained, like a malefactor, to the humidstone-wall of a low dark dungeon beneath the castle of the Jungueira.Not a gleam of light, not a breath of pure air, entered his abode;_then_ it was that conscience triumphed over intellect. He thought ofhis days of childhood and innocence, before he had learned the rules ofsophistry. His mother's face appeared to him, smiling with love, butfull of sadness. Suddenly it vanished, and one of dreadful scowlingaspect took its place. He thought of the dark lessons he had