University of Virginia Library

2. CHAPTER II.

The following evening, the gorgeous
apartments of the palace of the Valoni were
thrown open to the guests of the bridal.
The princely and the noble; the talented
and the beautiful; the sculptor, the painter,
the scholar, men of genius and of rank
thronged thither; for the Prince gave out
invitations to embrace all who usually had
the honor of visiting him. At seven o'clock
the more favored guests, the relations of the
bride and bridegroom attended them into
the private chapel of the palace, where the
ceremony was to be performed. The Countess
had been laughed out of her fears on
account of her dream by her friends, and
encouraged by the cardinal, to whom she
had made confession. Yet she approached
the altar with a pale cheek, and unsteady
step, glancing with a timid look on every
side, as if she expected to behold start before
her gaze some fearful spectre! The
cardinal opened the massal, and bade them
kneel! Around them stood four gentlemen,
relations of the Prince, whom, to relieve
her fears, he had stationed near her person
to protect her from any danger that might
menace. Each of these gentlemen held in
his hand a naked sword, nor did they once
take their eyes from the bride! The rumor
that something was anticipated that night,
to interrupt the ceremony, had been buzzed
about, and the throng of guests who were admitted
into the chapel crowded close around
the altar. The cardinal began the service!
The Prince and Countess were kneeling at
his feet, and the former was about to place
the ring upon her finger, when a glittering
stiletto, grasped in a naked arm, descended
from behind into the bosom of the bride!
The Countess gave a wild shriek and fell into
the arms of the Prince.

So instantaneous was the blow with the
appearance of the arm thrust from a cloak,
hat there was no time to warn—no time to
defend her! But ere the dagger was withdrawn,
the hand of the assassin fell to the
ground, cleft at the wrist by the sword of
one of the gentlemen. The chapel was simultaneously
filled with a cry of horror. The
assassin, in the commotion, had instantly
fallen back and hid himself amid the throng!
The loss of his hand had given advantage of

escape as its fall to the ground and the flow
of blood, drew the attention of the others
for an instant from him.

`Seize him!' cried the Prince. `He cannot
escape! He will be detected by the loss
of his hand! Close all the palace doors,
and guard them well! He must not escape!'

The excitement was now intense. Every
man looking upon his neighbor with
horror and suspicion, and each shrieking at
the idea of a bleeding assassin mingling
among them.

`It is a woman's hand, by Heaven!' cried
the Count Parma, the cavalier who had
severed it; `and a well-born woman's, too!'
And he held up to view a very exquisitely
formed female hand, the drops of crimson
gore staining its blue-veined skin and contrasting
its whiteness! The fingers were
singularly symmetrical, and on one of them
was a ring of a peculiar setting.

`This ring,' exclaimed the Count, `will
detect the murderer? See, your highness,
it is a ruby set with turquoise?'

The Prince glanced at the ring, grasped
at it wildly, uttered a deep groan, and sunk
senseless by the side of his dead bride.

The murderer was no where found in the
chapel! No traces of blood were visible in
any of the apartments beyond the altar, and
the whole terrible affair remained wrapped
in mystery.

`Count Parma,' said the Prince, in a distressed
tone, having been recovered from
his swoon, the chapel being by this time
emptied of all the guests, `give me that
hand which you have cast upon the altar for
public recognition!'

The Count obeyed, fixing upon the Prince
an inquiring gaze; for he, as well as many
present, now believed that he could tell
better than any one the history of the beautiful
hand.

The Prince took it and gazed upon it with
a look of painful interest, and then removing
the ring, placed it, to the wonder of
all, upon the answering finger of the dead
countess, murmuring, `Nevertheless, thou
alone art my wedded wife!' He then placed
the hand upon the altar, and kissing his
murdered bride upon the cheek, left the
chapel.

That night the Prince of B— died!
There was no wound upon his person, nor
were there found any signs of poison! He
was entombed by the side of his intended
wife, the Countess di Valoni.

This extraordinary assassination, with the
wonderful escape of its perpetrator, the sudden
death of the Prince of B—, and the
marvellous circumstance of the severed
hand, which was placed publicly upon the
altar for many days, caused no little sensation
throughout Rome, for some weeks.
But at length, it still remaining a mystery,
the public interest in it subsided, and in a
few weeks died away; for, startling events
follow upon the steps of each other too frequently,
and men also have too much of
their own concerns to regard, to suffer any
one particular subject long to engage their
minds.