# Horrid Mysteries: a Story/Volume 3/Chapter 4

CHAPTER IV.
The reader will recollect that the Count, on our return from the card-party, went immediately into his own apartment, instead of sitting half an hour with me as he was used to do. Having undressed himself, he observed that it was too early to go to bed: he, therefore, flung himself upon his sofa, to reflect on ​the occurrences of the day, and his affair with the Baron. His blood being in a violent fermentation, he tormented himself for some time with ruminating on the bad consequences the latter might produce. Yet the association of ideas at length brought him back again to Caroline; he wandered from one smiling reverie to the other, and at last fell asleep.
His situation being, however, not very easy, he awoke after he had slept about half an hour. In his drowsiness he imagined to have rested on my sofa as usual, took up his candle, and wished me a good night, supposing that I was gone to bed. He went softly down stairs, and thus came to the apartment where the mantua-maker was fallen fast asleep in the arms of her new paramour, and, notwithstanding his perceiving some change in the furniture, yet he still imagined to be in his own apartment, and was astonished at his heavy drowsiness, which, as he thought, represented every object in a ​different manner to his eyes. He now began to undress himself, opened the curtains, and placed the table with the candle near the bed, to extinguish it when he should have gone to bed. But unfortunately one of the Baron's boots laying on the floor, he put one foot of the table upon it, the candle dropped down, and fell burning into the face of the former. The Baron awoke with a terrible scream; and it may easily be conceived how much the Count was astonished to see his bed occupied by his mortal enemy. Being of a very irascible temper, his astonishment was turned into the most violent rage at that supposed impertinence. He uttered a dreadful oath, and ran to the corner in which he had placed his sword; but being not able to find it, he rung with such a vehemence for his servants, that the string of the bell broke; for being at a loss to account for that incident, he was determined to chastise the Baron in an exemplary manner.
​The latter had, mean time, hastened out of the bed, and found his sword. Thinking that the Count was his rival, he congratulated himself upon the favourable opportunity, he imagined to have, to get rid of him at once; and while his fair companion screamed with all her might, went in his shirt to attack the poor Count, who held his breeches in one hand, and with the other, which was armed with the Baron's cane, parried his antagonist's thrusts with the greatest difficulty. Yet being an excellent fencer, he soon attacked his adversary in an offensive manner, without recollecting that his weapon was only a wooden one, beat the Baron's sword out of his hand, and gave him such a violent blow on his stomach, that he began to roar in a most rueful accent.
The lady, who had not ceased screaming all the time the combat lasted, imagined that her Adonis could not but have received some material hurt by the Count's furious blows, accompanied the vocifera​tion of her charmer with additional force, which roused every inhabitant of the house that had not been awakened by the Count's violent ringing of the bell. A number of people appeared, by degrees, in the apartment, in their shirts, and seemed to be very much inclined to assist the landlady. Some spits and pokers began already to approach the Count, when my coachman entered the room with his horse-whip. Being of a giant-like stature, which was not inferior to his bodily strength, he could look over the heads of the rest, and soon perceived the Count's distressful situation. He, therefore, began to lay about him with his whip, and handled the naked figures so unmercifully, that the contest was terminated in a moment. The assailants dropt their arms, and saved themselves as well as they could.
The Count seeing himself delivered from his aggressors, began to reflect a lịttle, and perceived that he was not in his own apartment. The screaming lady in ​the bed now attracted his attention, and he went to take her out. No sooner did he behold her face, and see who she was, than he guessed at the real state of the whole affair. Want of gallantry being not on the list of his defects, he thought it was his duty to excuse his fatal mistake, and to soothe the wrath of the offended fair one. He, therefore, told her a number of sweet things, excusing himself as well as he could; and seeing many inviting charms, disencumbered of every envious covering, before him, embraced her at last.
In that very moment I entered the apartment, armed with a sword, carrying a candle, and accompanied by all the servants, who were armed in the same manner, the Count's valet having waked me as soon as he had missed his master. A more ridiculous scene never has been witnessed. On stepping out of my apartment, I had met some shopmen, who were half naked, and took to their heels as ​soon as they saw me. When I came to the lady's apartment, I saw the coachman standing on the threshold, gazing into the room, and holding his sides with laughing. The Baron stood in the centre of the apartment in the same posture, which, however, seemed to be owing to a different cause; and the Count sat by the bed, caressing and, at last, tenderly embracing, a lady that was almost entirely naked. The latter glowed with a high crimson hue, but the fire that burned in her face was not the effect of anger. Her longing eyes surveyed the beautiful form of the Count; she suffered his kisses, and appeared to be displeased with nothing but the number of witnesses. Seeing me, at length, at the head of the servants, she ejaculated a loud scream, and disengaging herself from the Count's embraces, hid herself in the bed.
The first thing I did, was to fly to the assistance of the poor Baron. The Count, who laughed immoderately, assisted me ​faithfully; but our crest fallen hero was in such agonizing pains, that he scarcely could speak. He complained of violent pains, and a great quantity of congealed blood had gathered on the place where he was wounded. I sent instantly for a surgeon, and assisted my friend in putting on his cloaths. The lady in the bed declaring that it was impossible he could remain in her apartment, we carried him into a coach, and saw him to his lodgings, where we committed him to the care of his servants.
We took the greatest pains to keep the whole transaction private; however, this was impossible; for it was circulated through the whole town the next morning. We received every where congratulations, and were obliged to relate all the particulars of that strange incident. The Baron was no sooner able to go abroad, than the Count received a challenge, in which the choice of arms was entirely left to his option; and he was generous enough to ​fix upon pistols. Time and place were agreed upon. The Count seemed to presage a fatal catastrophe; having made his will, and committed it to my care, he bade a tender adieu to all his friends, under the pretext of a little journey. Caroline too was not forgotten. He imagined no one knew any thing of the real nature of his pretended journey; yet I could plainly perceive that his friends looked upon this journey as his last, at all events. Caroline almost fainted, on rising from the sofa, to offer him her beautiful hand for a farewell kiss. My rising jealousy perceived this plainly, and it did also not escape her that the Count observed it too with great emotion.
We left town early in the morning on horseback, and found the Baron and his second already on the appointed spot. Neither of the two antagonists being a great marksman, each of them had brought two braces of pistols with him, which were charged by the seconds, and then ​exchanged. The steps were measured, and they took their proper distance. Five shots were already fired without any effect. The Baron aimed so miserably, that he almost had wounded me, though I was more than six paces distant from the Count. I therefore called to him, when he was going to fire again, "not to tremble so much." He was, however, but too successful; for the Count dropt on the ground, exclaiming that he was wounded in the side. I hastened to assist him, and saw the blood gush violently from his wound. The Baron too offered to assist my friend; but the Count waved his hand, desiring him to flee as fast as possible. The Baron seemed really to be very much affected; and having embraced the Count and myself, mounted his horse, and rode away with his second. If the Count had been killed on the spot, I should probably have made a better use of the remaining brace of pistols than my friend. But seeing a chance of saving his life, I was too ​much occupied with a desire of giving him relief, as to entertain any idea of vengeance.
I flattered myself with the hope that the wound was not mortal, the ball not having penetrated deep enough as to injure his intestines materially. I only apprehended the violent effusion of blood might prove fatal to him. Having dressed his wound as well as possible with the assistance of my servant, we carried him to a neighbouring village. The surgeon was of my opinion, and the event confirmed my hope; for a few weeks confinement and rest cured him completely.
I could not prevent the duel, and the danger of the Count, from being known amongst our friends at Paris; and that incident gave us an opportunity of perceiving that we had a great many who really wished us well. All of them displayed the most anxious desire of seeing him, and of contributing something towards his recovery. The ladies, in par​ticular, scarcely left our house; and when he began to mend perceptibly, we began again to recommence our jocund assemblies with our usual gaiety. Caroline also visited at our house under the protection of an old uncle, and seemed to be particularly rejoiced at the Count's amendment.
One evening we were sitting at table, partaking of a cheerful supper. The Count had declared that day that he intended to leave his apartment on the subsequent one, and we were talking of a little feast which was to be given on that occasion. No one was more happy at it than Caroline. She sat opposite to me, and I could plainly perceive the expressions of her secret joy on her glowing countenance. I was absorpt in the contemplation of her charms, and felt my heart beat in unison with hers. I was thrilled with a secret pleasure, which, however, was mixed with something very ​bitter. How nice is the perception of a lover's senses!
At once she grew pale; her large blue eyes, which were sparkling with rapture, gazed joyfully amazed at the door which was behind me; her fork dropt upon the floor; she held her napkin before her face, and leaned a little back against the chair. I was just going to her assistance, when every face was turned towards the door. The chairs were suddenly overturned; every one left the table; a confused clamour filled the apartment; and turning my head, seized with astonishment, I beheld the Count enfolded in the arms of friendship.
What a feast for us to see him thus unexpectedly amongst us! We all received him as a lost and suddenly recovered treasure; the tenderest caresses were lavished upon him, but the most expressive endearments were only weak emblems of our ecstatic joy. He returned them faintly; but the languour which his words and ​expressed only served to animate them with additional ardor. We placed him in the middle; but no cushion was deemed soft enough, no chair commodious enough, to seat the dear, recovered fugitive upon. A general satisfaction prevailed in our joyous circle; he was the monarch to whom our hearts paid a willing, cheerful homage. Caroline seated herself, at length, with a charming simplicity, by his side, to nurse the dear idol of our hearts. He was deeply affected by her angelic goodness, but could not find words to express his feelings.
Wit and humour now returned to our circle in an overflowing measure, and with additional gaiety. The graces mingled with our society, and the god of cheerful hilarity presided at our table. Our conversation overflowed with witty sallies; a general desire of giving pleasure to our darling pervaded every bosom. The Count's cheerfulness was of a more gentle complexion; he smiled only when we ​laughed. Caroline animated him with half concealed and half visible caresses, and the warmth of friendship soon blazed perceptibly up in the flame of love. Every member of our happy society was charmed with the dear object of our love, and applauded his enchanting ideas; I alone sat mute, and, at the sight of his happiness, felt myself consumed by a secret fire, for which I neither could nor would account.
Here begins a period of my life, on which I cannot reflect without despising myself; in which I was misled by a glowing passion to forget every thing that was dear to me, and that I ever should have held sacred. And, gracious Heaven! what a passion? Not that of a first love, in which the heated blood urges us to sacrifice all prejudices, and every idea that opposes our desires; it was not that love which boldly breaks all the fetters of human nature, and even tears all other softer ties; no, it was a passion kindled by jealousy after the first bloom of life was past, ​and numberless painful experiences ought to have put me on my guard, after love even had lavished all her blessings on me; a hopeless, unhappy passion, inflamed by impossibility, and combating the most sacred duties. What a misfortune is it to have been for some time the favourite of fortune! Nothing had been able to resist me as yet, but here was the boundary of my power; and while I attempted to overleap it, I was in danger to lose a friend, a real treasure, in the pursuit of an imaginary one.
I was the only person in our cheerful circle that did not sincerely share the general flow of pleasure which pervaded the heart of every one present. The smile of cheerfulness sat on my lips, but baneful poison rankled in my heart. My eyes, which scarcely were able to retain the tear of painful disappointment, were overclouded with a mist. Every innocent glance of Caroline's looks, meeting those of the enraptured Count, stung me to the ​heart; every tender gesture of hers threatened to choke me. I laughed immoderately, to conceal the real cause of the big tears that started from my heavy eyes, and to disguise the visible agitation of my bosom.
Yet my strange alteration did not escape the Count's keen sightedness. He now took a too small share in the general flow of pleasure as not to be a good observer, and repeatedly extended his hand to me over the table to reconcile me to him. I accepted, but could not have squeezed it for the world. My cheerfulness was so unnatural, so extravagant, that I am astonished it did not strike the whole company.
"Dear Marquis," said he, as soon as we were left to ourselves, "dear Marquis, what ails you?"
I had squeezed myself into a corner of the sofa, absorpt in a profound reverie, averting my weeping eyes from the Count, and turning them towards the window, through which the pale light of the moon ​trembled. A melancholy train of gloomy scenes of former times, as it were, passed visibly the review before my overclouded eyes, and I compared the overflowing measure of my sufferings with the scanty portion of my joys. Only the present moment sways in our mind in such a disposition, and reflects its hue on sufferings and pleasures past, on our wishes and fears, on our hopes and expectations. Feathers sink to the bottom when the torrent is too violent, and rocks are unrooted. In that moment the whole course of my life appeared to me to have been destitute of every joy, and futurity stared me grisly in the face. Without being rightly conscious of the original source of that agonizing state of mind, every expectation was thereby infected, and every cheering hope destroyed at once. No situation of mind is so dreadful as the moment in which a violent, hopeless passion, which we have struggled with in vain, convulses every faculty of the soul in its first incon​scious rise. I scarcely heard the Count's question, yet the dubious shake of his head did not escape my notice.
"You don't hear me, dear Carlos!" he resumed. "I fear you are not well?"
"Indeed, I believe you are right," I replied mechanically; "for I feel something here," pointing to the left side.
The Count laughed at that gesture, assumed a cheerful air, and said, "So much the worse, Carlos; for hurts on that side are generally incurable." He expected I should fall in with his merry humour; yet I was entirely mute, and he resumed again:
"Tell me, for Heaven's sake, Marquis, what is the matter with you. You are entirely changed; or do you think that I have not seen the tears which you attempted to disguise by laughing, nor that I have perceived that you did not squeeze my hand when I offered it to you so cordially?"
​"Don't speak of it, dearest Count. I am, indeed, not well."
"Indeed not? And that malady attacks you in the very moment in which I feel myself well again the first time?"
"Dearest, best Count; for God's sake, don't be bitter. I cannot, I cannot bear it to day."
"Bitter!" he exclaimed, with a mien which was ten times more so. "It is, indeed, the first time to day that any person taxes me with it. I was not bitter while I was unfortunate; it must therefore originate in my happiness. "But," added he, in a soothing accent, "do you really think that I am such a bad and inattentive observer, that I should not have seen at whom your tenderest and most burning looks were directed?"
"Pray, tell me, at whom were they directed?"
"The former at my fair neighbour, and the latter at myself. The tears, that ​started from your eyes, could not extinguish their jealous fire."
"Jealous, did you say? By heaven I do not comprehend you."
"Alas! how much is my Carlos altered! Can that be my Carlos, whom I doat upon, who was the tender partner of my joys and sorrows, my guardian genius, the sharer of all my secrets and my inmost thoughts, whom I looked upon as my better half? I scarcely can persuade myself that he is the same person. By his kind assistance I have recovered from a dangerous illness, and he does not rejoice at his own work."
"Lewis, your reproaches are unjust. By the eternal God! I never have loved you with a greater ardour than in that fatal moment. But you are not mistaken; I am ill, very ill. I scarcely know myself again."
Here a torrent of tears relieved me at once. My pulse began to beat with uncommon violence, my whole frame was ​convulsed; a feverish tremor shook all my limbs. I never have experienced similar symptoms. All the agonizing feelings of my straitened heart convulsively communicated themselves, as it were, to every part of my agitated frame. The Count was almost petrified at the sight of these emotions, which thrilled me by fits, and which I struggled in vain to overcome. I wanted to speak; however, my teeth chattered so violently, that I could utter none but inarticulate accents. I wanted to shake hands with him, but trembled so excessively, that I missed his. I wanted to recline my head against his bosom, and relapsed half-fainting upon the sofa.
"What a mysterious incident!" he exclaimed ever and anon. "I cannot persuade myself that you are really ill: or shall I send for a physician?"
I begged him, in the greatest agony, for a little water and wine; my mouth being so much parched that I scarcely could open my lips. He gave it me, and ​felt myself refreshed. He now seated himself upon the sofa, to wipe the cold sweat from my face with his handkerchief, entreating me, again and again, to compose myself. "All will be well," he added. "You know how little I value my life, if I can be useful to you: should I, therefore, not willingly share my happiness with my dear Carlos?"
"Dearest Lewis!" I groaned, "rather a thousand reproaches, than that heavenly goodness. Alas! I do not deserve it." So saying, I struggled to disengage myself in a fit of wild despair from his embraces; however, he would not let me go.
"If you don't deserve that love, that tender kindness; who else can merit it?
"Tell me, O! tell me, my injured friend, do you really not hate a rival?"
"A rival! Is this the fatal secret? Yes, Carlos, I confess Caroline could make me happy, and obliterate the recollection of what I have suffered. My passion began as early as yours. It sways in my breast ​equally powerful as in your poor heart. We have the same right; but I must tell you, that I believe my hopes are better founded than yours." I shuddered violently. "However," he continued with a deep groan, "you have nothing to fear; I cease, from this moment, to be your rival. I rather will renounce happiness for ever, than purchase it at the expense of your tranquillity and peace of mind. Here is my hand; Caroline is yours. I renounce all my claims to her heart, and leave you at full liberty to gain it for yourself." So saying, he squeezed my hand, and strained me tenderly to his bosom. How was it possible I could have expressed the grateful feelings of my heart? However, he was satisfied with himself and with my tears. Every noble, generous deed produces its own reward. Broken accents speak stronger, and with greater energy, than words; and amongst all languages that of gratitude is the most monosyllabled.
​He now left me to myself with his usual gentleness. His eyes were, indeed, rather overcast with a melancholy gloom, and his brow was not cloudless; yet he restrained his grief at the sacrifice he had made, and spared my feelings. But, alas! what a dreadful night succeeded that fatal evening! my fever encreased after the Count's noble declaration, and the dawn of morning found me absorpt in gloomy reveries.
"This is then the fruit of thy sufferings, thy travels, observations, and resolution?" I said to myself: "thy most solemn vows, and thy vaunted friendship are wrecked upon a miserable passion? How deeply must he despise me! And has he not the greatest reason for it? Is he not greater than I? Did he not tell me that Caroline would render him happy for life, and restore his long lost hilarity to him? He never has enjoyed the bliss of love in its fullest extent, and I deprive him of it at his commencement of a new life: I, who ​am a voluptuary, a spoiled fondling of love, and have but lately wept at the early tomb of an adored wife! Carlos, thou art the meanest wretch, and not deserving of thy existence, if thou canst hesitate to return that sacrifice."
It is incredible how much pain it cost me to come to that resolution; a resolution that was too natural and just than that it ought to have appeared to me a sacrifice. I began to meditate more seriously upon it, and was astonished at the unnatural state of my mind. The first love heats a blood that rolls through a youthful, healthy frame; and the kindling fire of sensations that have just unfolded themselves, urges us beyond the limits of humanity; and yet my senses never have been in such a tumultuous agitation; even not when I first met Elmira, animated with a full sense of my pride, and conscious of success; nor when she dropt into my trembling arms, encircling my neck as my happy and blessing wife, and my ​senses were, for the first time, inebriated, on her bosom, with every rapture love is capable to afford; nor was my blood heated to a similar degree in Rosalia's arms, who had taught me to empty the cup of intoxicating sensuality to the last drop. Maturer age also had contributed to cool the heat of passions; and Elmira's modest meekness, the dear cares of a tranquil domesticated life, unruffled by sorrow, and flowing in a soft and gentle stream, had blunted the edge of my desires. What could, therefore, have deprived me of my senses in that moment; what could have rendered me so callous against the admonitions of a just and friendly heart; what could have been the reason of the vehement tempest that agitated my whole nature?
While I was occupied with these and similar reflections, which succeeded each other with an incomprehensible impetuosity, the idea of my singular fatalities in Spain forced itself upon my soul. Don ​Bernhard, who constantly frequented our house, though his character did not suffer him to assist in all our banquets, happened that night to be of our party. Count S******i also was present; and both being in an uncommonly merry humour, they entertained the company with a relation of our little Bacchanals at Toledo. The recollection of those merry scenes reminded me, by a natural association of ideas, of the separation of our society, and of the fate of its individual members. I recollected that one was seduced by an Italian singer to abandon our cheerful circle; that a second was called away by family affairs; that a third was intoxicated by something mixed with his wine. The latter idea made me start up with a loud scream. "Heavenly powers!" thought I, "should, perhaps, the unnatural state of my mind and body be the effect of a similar cause?" I hurried out of my bed. The dining room was separated from my bed-chamber only by two apartments. I ​put a night-gown on, and went with the greatest precaution thither, to ascertain my supposition, if possible. The glasses were still upon the table; the servants being used to remove every thing in the morning when the company stayed too long. The dawn of morning peeped already through the windows, and enabled me to discern every object without difficulty. I began to examine the glasses, but with very little hope of success, as it also was possible that something might have been mixed in my plate; nay, it even appeared to me to have been too hazardous to attempt mixing an inebriating drug with my wine or water; though I was so much absorpt in thought, that I perhaps should not have taken the least notice of whole clouds of impurity in my glass. My apprehension soon was confirmed beyond contradiction; for I discovered in one of the glasses, standing near the place where I had sat, a whitish matter on the bottom, which undoubtedly was the re​mainder of what I inadvertently had swallowed.
The conclusions I deduced from that discovery were of a most alarming nature. It was evident that the agent of the authors of that atrocious deed must be one of our servants, and at the same time have few accomplices, or none at all. My servants had, however, been employed very little at table; those of the Count having waited upon us from the moment he had joined our company. I had, besides, suspected two of his people for some time; for these fellows were of such an enormous and unnatural stupidity, that I could not conceive how the Count could keep them in his service. Being, however, unwilling to throw an odium upon an innocent person, I resolved to conceal that incident and my suppositions from my friend, and only to watch them with the greatest vigilance. My blood being still in a violent fermentation, I mixed some lemon juice with wine and water, ​which refreshed me more than I had expected. I could, indeed, not sleep; but found myself a great deal better on the subsequent morning.