The Greatest Gothic Classics of All Time. Эдгар Аллан По

found by Isabella. “Was that the way by which thou didst descend?” said Manfred.

      “It was,” said the youth.

      “But what noise was that,” said Manfred, “which I heard, as I entered the cloister?”

      “A door clapped,” said the peasant; “I heard it as well as you.”

      “What door?” said Manfred hastily.

      “I am not acquainted with your castle,” said the peasant: “this is the first time I ever entered it; and this vault the only part of it within which I ever was.”

      “But I tell thee,” said Manfred, wishing to find out if the youth had discovered the trap-door, “it was this way I heard the noise; my servants heard it too.”

      “My lord,” interrupted one of them officiously, “to be sure it was the trap-door, and he was going to make his escape.”

      “Peace! blockhead,” said the prince angrily; “if he was going to escape, how should he come on this side? I will know from his own mouth what noise it was I heard. Tell me truly, thy life depends on thy veracity.”

      “My veracity is dearer to me than my life,” said the peasant; “nor would I purchase the one by forfeiting the other.”

      “Indeed, young philosopher!” said Manfred, contemptuously; “tell me, then, what was that noise I heard?”

      “Ask me, what I can answer,” said he, “and put me to death instantly, if I tell you a lie.”

      Manfred, growing impatient at the steady valour and indifference of the youth, cried, “Well, then, thou man of truth! answer; was it the fall of the trap-door that I heard?”

      “It was,” said the youth.

      “It was!” said the prince; “and how didst thou come to know there was a trap-door here?”

      “I saw the plate of brass by a gleam of moonshine,” replied he.

      “But what told thee it was a lock?” said Manfred; “how didst thou discover the secret of opening it?”

      “Providence, that delivered me from the helmet, was able to direct me to the spring of a lock,” said he.

      “Providence should have gone a little farther, and have placed thee out of the reach of my resentment,” said Manfred: “when Providence had taught thee to open the lock, it abandoned thee for a fool, who did not know how to make use of its favours. Why didst thou not pursue the path pointed out for thy escape? Why didst thou shut the trap-door before thou hadst descended the steps?”

      “I might ask you, my lord,” said the peasant, “how I, totally unacquainted with your castle, was to know that those steps led to any outlet? but I scorn to evade your questions. Wherever those steps led to, perhaps, I should have explored the way. I could not be in a worse situation than I was. But the truth is, I let the trap-door fall: your immediate arrival followed. I had given the alarm—what imported it to me whether I was seized a minute sooner or a minute later?”

      “Thou art a resolute villain for thy years,” said Manfred; “yet, on reflection, I suspect thou dost but trifle with me: thou hast not yet told me how thou didst open the lock.”

      “That I will show you, my lord,” said the peasant; and, taking up a fragment of stone that had fallen from above, he laid himself on the trap-door, and began to beat on the piece of brass that covered it; meaning to gain time for the escape of the princess. This presence of mind, joined to the frankness of the youth, staggered Manfred. He even felt a disposition towards pardoning one who had been guilty of no crime. Manfred was not one of those savage tyrants who wanton in cruelty unprovoked. The circumstances of his fortune had given an asperity to his temper, which was naturally humane; and his virtues were always ready to operate, when his passions did not obscure his reason.

      While the prince was in this suspense, a confused noise of voices echoed through the distant vaults. As the sound approached, he distinguished the clamours of some of his domestics, whom he had dispersed through the castle in search of Isabella, calling out, “Where is my lord? where is the prince?”

      “Here I am,” said Manfred, as they came nearer; “have you found the princess?”

      The first that arrived replied, “Oh, my lord, I am glad we have found you.”

      “Found me!” said Manfred; “have you found the princess?”

      “We thought we had, my lord,” said the fellow, looking terrified; “but——”

      “But what?” cried the prince; “has she escaped?”

      “Jaquez and I, my lord——”

      “Yes, I and Diego,” interrupted the second, who came up in still greater consternation.

      “Speak one of you at a time,” said Manfred; “I ask you, where is the princess?”

      “We do not know,” said they both together; “but we are frightened out of our wits.”

      “So I think, blockheads,” said Manfred; “what is it has scared you thus?”

      “Oh, my lord,” said Jaquez, “Diego has seen such a sight! your highness would not believe your eyes.”

      “What new absurdity is this?” cried Manfred; “give me a direct answer, or by Heaven——”

      “Why, my lord, if it please your highness to hear me,” said the poor fellow, “Diego and I——”

      “Yes, I and Jaquez,” cried his comrade.

      “Did not I forbid you to speak both at a time?” said the prince: “you, Jaquez, answer; for the other fool seems more distracted than thou art: what is the matter?”

      “My gracious lord,” said Jaquez, “if it please your highness to hear me, Diego and I, according to your highness’s orders, went to search for the young lady; but being apprehensive that we might meet the ghost of my young lord, your highness’s son, God rest his soul! as he has not received Christian burial——”

      “Sot!” cried Manfred, in a rage, “is it only a ghost, then, that thou hast seen?”

      “Oh, worse! worse! my lord,” cried Diego: “I had rather have seen ten whole ghosts.”

      “Grant me patience!” said Manfred; “those blockheads distract me. Out of my sight, Diego; and thou, Jaquez, tell me, in one word, art thou sober? art thou raving? thou wast wont to have some sense; has the other sot frightened himself and thee too? speak; what is it he fancies he has seen?”

      “Why, my lord,” replied Jaquez, trembling. “I was going to tell your highness, that since the calamitous misfortune of my young lord, God rest his precious soul! not one of us, your highness’s faithful servants, indeed we are, my lord, though poor men; I say, not one of us has dared to set a foot about the castle, but two together: so Diego and I, thinking that my young lady might be in the great gallery, went up there to look for her, and tell her your highness wanted something to impart to her.”

      “O blundering fools!” cried Manfred; “and in the meantime she has made her escape, because you were afraid of goblins! Why, thou knave! she left me in the gallery; I came from thence myself.”

      “For all that, she may be there still for aught I know,” said Jaquez; “but the devil shall have me before I seek her there again: poor Diego! I do not believe he will ever recover it.”

      “Recover what?” said Manfred; “am I never to learn what it is has terrified these rascals? But I lose my time; follow me, slave; I will see if she is in the gallery.”

      “For Heaven’s sake, my dear good lord,” cried Jaquez, “do not go to the gallery! Satan himself, I believe, is in the chamber next to the gallery.”

      Manfred, who hitherto had treated the terror of his servants as an idle panic, was struck at this