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Updated: June 3, 2025
"And will you tell me," said Glyndon, "that in yourself I behold one of that mighty few over whom Zicci has no superiority in power and wisdom?" "In me," answered the stranger, "you see one from whom Zicci himself learned many of his loftiest secrets. Before his birth my wisdom was! On these shores, on this spot, have I stood in ages that your chronicles but feebly reach.
The porter, perceiving by his dress that he was not one of the invited guests, told him that his Excellency was engaged, and on no account could be disturbed; and Glyndon then, for the first time, became aware of how strange and embarrassing was the duty he had taken on himself.
As she spoke, Glyndon listened with visible emotion and perturbation. "Isabel!" he exclaimed, as she ceased, "your words more than ever enchain me to you. As you feel, I feel. I, too, have been ever haunted with a chill and unearthly foreboding. Amidst the crowds of men I have felt alone.
Mascari muttered some inaudible words, bowed low, and led the way to the chamber in which Isabel was confined. It wanted several minutes of midnight, and Glyndon repaired to the appointed spot.
"Go on, my dear Merton," said Glyndon. "I will join you before you reach the hotel." Merton nodded, whistled, and pushed his horse into a kind of amble. "Now your answer, quick." "I have decided: the love of Isabel has vanished from my heart. The pursuit is over." "You have decided?" "I have." "Adieu! join your friend."
All the gentlemen present then declared that they could comprehend, and had felt, what the stranger had described. "According to one of our national superstitions," said Merton, the Englishman who had first addressed Glyndon, "the moment you so feel your blood creep, and your hair stand on end, some one is walking over the spot which shall be your grave."
The Englishmen rode on in silence, for Glyndon neither appeared to heed or hear the questions and comments of Merton, and Merton himself was almost as weary as the jaded animal he bestrode. Suddenly the silence of earth and ocean was broken by the sound of a distant clock, that proclaimed the last hour of night. Glyndon started from his revery, and looked anxiously around.
She sprang past him into the house and closed the door. Glyndon did not dare to follow her, nor, strange as it may seem, was he so inclined. The thought and recollection of that moonlight hour in the gardens, of the strange address of Zicci, froze up all human passion; Isabel herself, if not forgotten, shrank back like a shadow into the recesses of his breast.
I will win this girl, if I die for it. Who laughed? Mascari, didst thou laugh?" "I, your Excellency, I laugh?" "It sounded behind me," said the Prince, gazing round. It was the day on which Zicci had told Glyndon that he should ask for his decision in respect to Isabel, the third day since their last meeting. The Englishman could not come to a resolution.
Saw you ever one so noble, so godlike?" "By the Holy Mother!" answered Gionetta, "he is a proper man, and has the air of a prince." The prompter summoned the Signora Pisani. "Find out his name, Gionetta," said she, sweeping on to the stage, and passing by Glyndon, who gazed at her with a look of sorrowful reproach.
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