# The Midnight Bell/Volume I/Chapter VI

CHAPTER VI.
Which is the villain? Let me see his eyes; That, when I note another man like him,
I may avoid him.
Much Ado About Nothing
Supporting herself on the arm of Alphonsus, an hour's journey brought Lauretta to Inspruck; where, wishing to avoid the questions of those who might perceive she was newly entered upon the world, she wisely concealed the surprise which was excited in her breast on beholding scenes to which she had hitherto been totally a stranger.
After a short repast, the travellers again set forward, and arrived about an hour after mid-day at the spot where Alphonsus had determined to fix his residence.—A small inn received them for the night, and in the morning Alphonsus repaired to the owner of the houses on the border of the river. Having bargained for the hire of one of the most commodious dwellings then vacant, and purchased the freedom of exercising his intended trade on the river, he next provided himself with the necessary implements for earning his subsistence; and in a few days entered upon the employment he had chosen for that purpose.
Fortune smiled on his endeavours; his Lauretta was the solace of his unemployed hours; and he enjoyed as great happiness as the mystery which had reduced him to his present humble situation could suffer a thinking mind to enjoy.—Retired from the world, not possessing either those riches or vanities which excite the envy of its inhabitants, Alphonsus and his Lauretta had hoped to live free from its cares and inquietudes; but they were quickly doomed to experience how short is the durability of human felicity, even in its humblest state.
The proprietor of the estate on which Alphonsus rented his humble habitation, was the baron Smaldart: he was a widower, whose wife had died in child-bed together with her infant. He was a man remarkable for his benevolence, hospitality, and mildness of temper.
His only sister had espoused the chevalier D'Aignon, a native of Burgundy, who, having been killed by a fall from his horse a short time after the death of the baroness Smaldart, madame D'Aignon had ever since resided with the baron.
Theodore, the son and only offspring of the deceased chevalier, now in his twentieth year, had for some time been receiving his education in France, and was expected shortly to return to his uncle's. His mother awaited his return with all the ardour of prejudiced fondness; but she was not permitted again to behold her son. She had for some time been slightly indisposed; and one morning, about the time of Theodore's expected arrival in Germany, was found lifeless in her bed.
This was a stroke which severely affected the baron: since the loss of his wife, his sister had been his constant and much-beloved companion: they had been strongly attached to each other; and he had earnestly wished that she might survive him.
At the appointed time Theodore arrived at Smaldart castle: but how great an alteration had taken place in him in the space of five years! When a youth, his every wish had been anticipated by the false indulgence of a kind uncle, and a doting mother; but still his manners had been then unaffected, his deportment unassuming, and his mind untainted with vicious habits. But now he was become haughty, impetuous, confident of his own opinion, and eager to give it unasked. The pecuniary allowance made him by his mother had enabled him to pass the greater part of the time allowed for his education, in a variety of dissipation: thus the acquisition of knowledge had been utterly neglected by him: nor was he himself conscious of his deficiency; having been hitherto connected with a set of men too sensible of their own interest not to pay implicit deference to his opinion on every occasion.
The baron had promised himself a pleasing companion in his nephew: he had expected to reap edification and amusement from the conversation of his well-informed mind; and hoped to find in him a willing partaker of such diversions as the country afforded.
How mistaken were his expectations! Theodore's conversation consisted only in boasting of disgraceful exploits, in which he was careful to hold himself up as the principal actor; and the only amusement he found in the sports of the country, was to make their pursuit a plea for injuring the lands of those who, from their dependence on his uncle, he well knew would not venture to seek redress. In short, had he aimed at making himself the object of general contempt and hatred, he could not have pursued steps that would more satisfactorily have gained him his wish.
He often averred that he despised the good opinion of inferiors; and his actions plainly showed that he would submit to any meanness to gain a smile of approbation from a superior in rank.
At the time of Theodore's arrival in Germany, Lauretta was in an advanced state of pregnancy: but she appeared not the less fascinating in his eyes; and, from the first moment of his beholding her, he marked her out for his lustful prey.
A mode of conduct but too common in life was now adopted by him: he used every means to show himself the friend of the husband, while he was labouring to become his blackest enemy. Often did he, by the most seductive flattery, make in imagination a step towards the heart of Lauretta; and as often did her awful virtue cause him to retrace his visionary path.
The perceptive mind of Alphonsus could not long remain ignorant of the hidden villainy of the young chevalier; but, conscious of the strict chastity of his Lauretta, he determined to appear not to notice the actions of Theodore, whilst he in reality kept the strictest watch over them. His mind recoiled from being daily obliged to increase a debt of gratitude to a man who was studying to wound him in the tenderest part; but policy forbade him to refuse obligations he had once accepted, lest he should open to the chevalier the discovery he had made, and his measures become more determined.
At the expected period Lauretta gave birth to a female infant, whose being was but that of a few hours. Lauretta was much affected by the loss of her first-born: Alphonsus, though he rejoiced at the safety of his wife, dropped a tear in sympathy with her sorrow at the fate of his child.
Theodore appeared daily at the cottage of Alphonsus, making the most solicitous inquiries relative to the health of Lauretta, and offering to her, by means of her husband, the most liberal presents, which Alphonsus was slow to accept, and that sparingly:—of a refusal he saw the bad consequences.
In the summer, Alphonsus was frequently kept out nearly half the night by his occupation; but he dreaded not that his Lauretta would then suffer from the persecutions of Theodore, as he had never visited his cottage in an evening; and more particularly as he well knew the gates of the baron Smaldart's castle to be closed at an early hour.
The conduct of Theodore was, however, becoming daily more alarming to the timid Lauretta; and she obtained a promise from Alphonsus, that, if the chevalier persisted in it, he would appeal to the well-known humanity of the baron.
It was one night, not long after this time, that Lauretta, still weak from her late indisposition, having retired to rest before the return of her husband, was roused by the cries of a girl, whom Alphonsus had procured for her as a nurse and companion in his absence, calling out that the house was on fire; and the girl immediately ran out to procure assistance.—Lauretta, springing from the bed, threw on her clothes as quickly as her alarm would permit her, and was rushing towards the door of the apartment, when Theodore stood before her. She shrieked, and endeavoured to pass him: he seized her hand, and exclaiming "my lucky stars are at length predominant," dragged her into the outer apartment.
Lauretta again raised her feeble voice; but, alas! her cries, had they been heard, would have been thought to proceed from her alarm on hearing the cry of fire. "Oh God of mercy, assist me!" she cried. "Oh my Alphonsus, where art thou?" and, raising her eyes, which had hitherto been averted from the surly smiling Theodore, she perceived, standing near the door, two men, whose scowling mien and haggard looks terrified her more than the villain who held her; and she again uttered a faint cry.
Theodore cast at her a look of mingled triumph and contempt; and, waving his hand to the men, they approached Lauretta. She again struggled to release herself from Theodore; but the effort overpowered her, and she fainted in their arms.