No More Learning

"

"Antonia," answered the Sicilian, "experienced the most violent struggle
between duty and inclination, between hate and admiration. The
disinterested generosity of a brother's love affected her; she felt
herself forced to esteem a person whom she could never love. Her heart
was torn by conflicting sentiments. But her repugnance to the chevalier
seemed to increase in the same degree as his claims upon her esteem
augmented. Lorenzo perceived with heartfelt sorrow the grief that
consumed her youth. A tender compassion insensibly assumed the place of
that indifference with which, till then, he had been accustomed to
regard her; but this treacherous sentiment quickly deceived him, and an
ungovernable passion began by degrees to shake the steadiness of his
virtue--a virtue which, till then, had been unequalled.

"He, however, still obeyed the dictates of generosity, though at the
expense 'of his love. By his efforts alone was the unfortunate victim
protected against the arbitrary proceedings of the rest of the family.
But his endeavors were ineffectual. Every victory he gained over his
passion rendered him more worthy of Antonia; and the disinterestedness
with which he refused her left her no excuse for resistance.

"This was the state of affairs when the chevalier engaged me to visit
him at his father's villa. The earnest recommendation of my patron
procured me a reception which exceeded my most sanguine hopes. I must
not forget to mention that by some remarkable operations I had
previously rendered my name famous in different lodges of Freemasons,
which circumstance may, perhaps, have contributed to strengthen the old
marquis' confidence in me, and to heighten his expectations. I beg you
will excuse me from describing particularly the lengths I went with him,
and the means which I employed; you may judge of them from what I have
already confessed to you. Profiting by the mystic books which I found
in his very extensive library, I was soon able to converse with him in
his own language, and to adorn my system of the invisible world with the
most extraordinary inventions. In a short time I could make him believe
whatever I pleased, and he would have sworn as readily as upon an
article in the canon. Moreover, as he was very devout, and was by nature
somewhat credulous, my fables received credence the more readily, and in
a short time I had so completely surrounded and hemmed him in with
mystery that he cared for nothing that was not supernatural. In short I
became the patron saint of the house. The usual subject of my lectures
was the exaltation of human nature, and the intercourse of men with
superior beings; the infallible Count Gabalis was my oracle.

[A mystical work of that title, written in French in 1670 by the
Abbe do Villars, and translated into English in 1600. Pope is said
to have borrowed from it the machinery of his Rape of the Lock. -H.
G. B. ]

"The young countess, whose mind since the loss of her lover had been more
occupied in the world of spirits than in that of nature, and who had,
moreover, a strong shade of melancholy in her composition, caught my
hints with a fearful satisfaction. Even the servants contrived to have
some business in the room when I was speaking, and seizing now and then
one of my expressions, joined the fragments together in their own way.

"Two months were passed in this manner at the marquis' villa, when the
chevalier one morning entered my apartment. A deep sorrow was painted
on his countenance, his features were convulsed, he threw himself into a
chair, with gestures of despair.

"'Captain,' said he, 'it is all over with me, I must begone; I can
remain here no longer. '

"'What is the matter, chevalier? What ails you? '

"'Oh! this fatal passion! ' said he, starting frantically from his chair.
'I have combated it like a man; I can resist it no longer. '

"'And whose fault is it but yours, my dear chevalier? Are they not all
in your favor? Your father, your relations. '

"'My father, my relations! What are they to me? I want not a forced
union, but one of inclination, Have not I a rival? Alas! and what a
rival! Perhaps among the dead! Oh! let me go! Let me go to the end
of the world,--I must find my brother. '

"'What! after so many unsuccessful attempts can you still cherish hope? '

"'Hope! ' replied the chevalier; 'alas! no. It has long since vanished
from my heart, but it has not from hers. Of what consequence are my
sentiments? Can I be happy while there remains a gleam of hope in
Antonia's heart? Two words, my friend, would end my torments. But it
is in vain. My destiny must continue to be miserable till eternity
shall break its long silence, and the grave shall speak in my behalf. '

"'Is it then a state of certainty that would render you happy? '

"'Happy! Alas! I doubt whether I can ever again be happy. But
uncertainty is of all others the most dreadful pain. '

"After a short interval of silence he suppressed his emotion, and
continued mournfully, 'If he could but see my torments! Surely a
constancy which renders his brother miserable cannot add to his
happiness. Can it be just that the living should suffer so much for the
sake of the dead, who can no longer enjoy earthly felicity? If he knew
the pangs I suffer,' continued he, hiding his face on my shoulder, while
the tears streamed from his eyes, 'yes, perhaps he himself would
conducts her to my arms. '

"'But is there no possibility of gratifying your wishes? '

"He started. 'What do you say, my friend? '

"'Less important occasions than the present,' said I, 'have disturbed
the repose of the dead for the sake of the living. Is not the whole
earthly happiness of a man, of a brother'

"'The whole earthly happiness! Ah, my friend, I feel what you say is
but too true; my entire felicity. '

"'And the tranquillity of a distressed family, are not these sufficient
to justify such a measure? Undoubtedly. If any sublunary concern can
authorize us to interrupt the peace of the blessed, to make use of a
power'

"'For God's sake, my friend,' said he, interrupting me, no more of this.
Once, I avow it, I had such a thought; I think I mentioned it to you;
but I have long since rejected it as horrid and abominable. '

"You will have conjectured already," continued the Sicilian, "to what
this conversation led us. I endeavored to overcome the scruples of the
chevalier, and at last succeeded. We resolved to summon the spirit of
the deceased Jeronymo. I only stipulated for the delay of a fortnight,
in order, as I pretended, to prepare myself in a suitable manner for so
solemn an act. The time being expired, and my machinery in readiness,
I took advantage of a very gloomy day, when we were all assembled as
usual, to obtain the consent of the family, or rather, gradually to lead
them to the subject, so that they themselves requested it of me. The
most difficult part of the task was to obtain the approbation of
Antonia, whose presence was most essential. My endeavors were, however,
greatly assisted by the melancholy turn of her mind, and perhaps still
more so by a faint hope that Jeronymo might still be living, and
therefore would not appear. A want of confidence in the thing itself,
or a doubt of my ability, was the only obstacle which I had not to
contend with.

"Having obtained the consent of the family, the third day was fixed on
for the operation. I prepared them for the solemn transaction by
mystical instruction, by fasting, solitude, and prayers, which I ordered
to be continued till late in the night. Much use was also made of a
certain musical instrument, unknown till that time, and which, in such
cases, has often been found very powerful. The effect of these
artifices was so much beyond my expectation that the enthusiasm to which
on this occasion I was obliged to force myself was infinitely heightened
by that of my audience. The anxiously-expected hour at last arrived. "

"I guess," said the prince, "whom you are now going to introduce. But
go on, go on. "

"No, your highness. The incantation succeeded according to my wishes. "

"How? Where is the Armenian? "

"Do not fear, your highness. He will appear but too soon. I omit the
description of the farce itself, as it would lead me to too great a
length. Be it sufficient to say that it answered my utmost
expectations. The old marquis, the young countess, her mother, Lorenzo,
and a few others of the family, were present. You may imagine that
during my long residence in this house I had not wanted opportunities of
gathering information respecting everything that concerned the deceased.
Several portraits of him enabled me to give the apparition the most
striking likeness, and as I suffered the ghost to speak only by signs,
the sound of his voice could excite no suspicion.

"The departed Jeronymo appeared--in the dress of a Moorish slave, with a
deep wound in his neck. You observe that in this respect I was
counteracting the general supposition that he had perished in the waves,
for I had reason to hope that the unexpectedness of this circumstance
would heighten their belief in the apparition itself, while, on the
other hand, nothing appeared to me more dangerous than to keep too
strictly to what was natural. "

"I think you judged rightly," said the prince. "In whatever respects
apparitions the most probable is the least acceptable. If their
communications are easily comprehended we undervalue the channel by
which they are obtained. Nay, we even suspect the reality of the
miracle if the discoveries which it brings to light are such as might
easily have been imagined. Why should we disturb the repose of a spirit
if it is to inform us of nothing more than the ordinary powers of the
intellect are capable of teaching us? But, on the other hand, if the
intelligence which we receive is extraordinary and unexpected it
confirms in some degree the miracle by which it is obtained; for who can
doubt an operation to be supernatural when its effect could not be
produced by natural means? I interrupt you," added the prince.
"Proceed in your narrative. "

"I asked the ghost whether there was anything in this world which he
still considered as his own," continued the Sicilian, "and whether he
had left anything behind that was particularly dear to him? The ghost
shook his head three times, and lifted up his hand towards heaven.
Previous to his retiring he dropped a ring from his finger, which was
found on the floor after he had disappeared. Antonia took it, and,
looking at it attentively, she knew it to be the ring she had given her
intended husband on their betrothal. "

"The ring! " exclaimed the prince, surprised. "How did you get it? "

"Who? I? It was not the true one, your highness; I got it. It was only
a counterfeit. "

"A counterfeit! " repeated the prince. "But in order to counterfeit you
required the true one. How did you come by it? Surely the deceased
never went without it. "

"That is true," replied the Sicilian, with symptoms of confusion. "But
from a description which was given me of the genuine ring"

"A description which was given you! By whom? "

"Long before that time. It was a plain gold ring, and had, I believe,
the name of the young countess engraved on it. But you made me lose the
connection. "

"What happened further? " said the prince, with a very dissatisfied
countenance.

"The family felt convinced that Jeronymo was no more. From that day
forward they publicly announced his death, and went into mourning. The
circumstance of the ring left no doubt, even in the mind of Antonia, and
added a considerable weight to the addresses of the chevalier.

"In the meantime the violent shock which the young countess had received
from the sight of the apparition brought on her a disorder so dangerous
that the hopes of Lorenzo were very near being destroyed forever. On
her recovery she insisted upon taking the veil; and it was only at the
most serious remonstrances of her confessor, in whom she placed implicit
confidence, that she was induced to abandon her project. At length the
united solicitations of the family, and of the confessor, forced from
her a reluctant consent. The last day of mourning was fixed on for the
day of marriage, and the old marquis determined to add to the solemnity
of the occasion by making over all his estates to his lawful heir.

"The day arrived, and Lorenzo received his trembling bride at the altar.
In the evening a splendid banquet was prepared for the cheerful guests
in a hall superbly illuminated, and the most lively and delightful music
contributed to increase the general gladness. The happy old marquis
wished all the world to participate in his joy. All the entrances of
the palace were thrown open, and every one who sympathized in his
happiness was joyfully welcomed. In the midst of the throng--"

The Sicilian paused. A trembling expectation suspended our breath.

"In-the midst of the throng," continued the prisoner, "appeared a
Franciscan monk, to whom my attention was directed by the person who sat
next to me at table. He was standing motionless like a marble pillar.
His shape was tall and thin; his face pale and ghastly; his eyes were
fixed with a grave and mournful expression on the new-married couple.
The joy which beamed on the face of every one present appeared not on
his. His countenance never once varied. He seemed like a statue among
the living. Such an object, appearing amidst the general joy, struck me
more forcibly from its contrast with everything around. It left on my
mind so indelible an impression that from it alone I have been enabled
(which would otherwise have been impossible) to recollect the features
of the Franciscan monk in the Russian officer; for, without doubt, you
must have already conceived that the person I have described was no
other than your Armenian.

"I frequently attempted to withdraw my eyes from this terrible figure,
but they wandered back involuntarily, and found his countenance
unaltered. I pointed him out to the person who sat nearest to me on the
other side, and he did the same to the person next to him. In a few
minutes a general curiosity and astonishment pervaded the whole company.
The conversation languished; a general silence succeeded; the monk did
not heed it. He continued motionless as before; his grave and mournful
looks constantly fixed upon the new-married couple; his appearance
struck every one with terror. The young countess alone, who found the
transcript of her own sorrow in the fact of the stranger, beheld with
a melancholy satisfaction the only object that seemed to understand and
sympathize in her sufferings. The crowd insensibly diminished. It was
past midnight; the music became fainter and more languid; the tapers
grew dim, and many of them went out. The conversation, declining by
degrees, lost itself at last in secret murmurs, and the faintly
illuminated hall was nearly deserted. The monk, in the meantime,
continued motionless, with the same grave and mournful look still fixed
on the new-married couple. The company at length rose from the table;
the guests dispersed; the family assembled in a separate group, and the
monk, though uninvited, continued near them. How it happened that no
person spoke to him I cannot conceive.

"The female friends now surrounded the trembling bride, who cast a
supplicating and distressed look on the venerable stranger; he did not
answer it. The gentlemen assembled in the same manner around the
bridegroom. A solemn and anxious silence prevailed among them. 'That
we should be so happy here together,' began at length the old marquis,
who alone seemed not to behold the stranger, or at least seemed to
behold him without dismay. 'That we should be so happy here together,
and my son Jeronymo cannot be with us! '

"'Have you invited him, and has he failed to come? ' asked the monk.
It was the first time he had spoken. We looked at him in alarm.

"'Alas! he is gone to a place from whence there is no return,' answered
the old man. 'Reverend father I you misunderstood me. My son Jeronymo
is dead. '

"'Perhaps he only fears to appear in this company,' replied the monk.
'Who knows how your son Jeronymo may be situated? Let him now hear the
voice which he heard the last. Desire your son Lorenzo to call him. '

"'What means he? ' whispered the company to one another. Lorenzo changed
color. I will not deny that my own hair began to stand on end.

"In the meantime the monk approached a sideboard; he took a glass of
wine and carried to his lips. 'To the memory of our dear Jeronymo! '
said he. 'Let every one who loved the deceased follow my example. '

"'Be you who you may, reverend father! ' exclaimed the old marquis, 'you
have pronounced a name dear to us all, and you are heartily welcome
here;' then turning to us, he offered us full glasses. 'Come, my
friends! ' continued he, 'let us not be surpassed by a stranger. The
memory of my son Jeronymo!
"Never, I believe, was any toast less heartily received.

"'There is one glass still unemptied," said the marquis. 'Why does my
son Lorenzo refuse to drink this friendly toast? '

"Lorenzo, trembling, received the glass from the hands of the monk;
tremblingly he put it to his lips. 'To my dearly-beloved brother
Jeronymo! ' he stammered out, and replaced the glass with a shudder.

"'That was my murderer's voice! ' exclaimed a terrible figure, which
appeared suddenly in the midst of us, covered with blood, and disfigured
with horrible wounds.

"Do not ask me the rest," added the Sicilian, with every symptom of
horror in his countenance. "I lost my senses the moment I looked at
this apparition. The same happened to every one present. When we
recovered the monk and the ghost had disappeared; Lorenzo was writhing
in the agonies of death. He was carried to bed in the most dreadful
convulsions. No person attended him but his confessor and the sorrowful
old marquis, in whose presence he expired. The marquis died a few weeks
after him. Lorenzo's secret is locked in the bosom of the priest who
received his last confession; no person ever learnt what it was.

"Soon after this event a well was cleaned in the farmyard of the
marquis' villa. It had been disused for many years, and was almost
closed up by shrubs and old trees. On digging among the rubbish a human
skeleton was found. The house where this happened is now no more; the
family del M-----nte is extinct, and Antonia's tomb may be seen in a
convent not far from Salerno.

"You see," continued the Sicilian, seeing us all stand silent and
thoughtful, "you see how my acquaintance with this Russian officer,
Armenian, or Franciscan friar originated. Judge now whether I had not
good cause to tremble at the sight of a being who has twice placed
himself in my way in a manner so terrible. "

"I beg you will answer me one question more," said the prince, rising
from his seat. "Have you been always sincere in your account of
everything relating to the chevalier? "

"To the best of my knowledge I have," replied the Sicilian.

"You really believed him to be an honest man? "

"I did; by heaven! I did," answered he again.

"Even at the tine he gave you the ring? "

"How! He gave me no ring. I did not say that he gave me the ring. "

"Very well! " said the prince, pulling the bell, and preparing to
depart. "And you believe" (going back to the prisoner) "that the ghost
of the Marquis de Lanoy, which the Russian officer introduced after your
apparition, was a true and real ghost? "

"I cannot think otherwise. "

"Let us go! " said the prince, addressing himself to us. The gaoler came
in. "We have done," said the prince to him. "You, sir," turning to the
prisoner, "you shall hear further from me. "

"I am tempted to ask your highness the last question you proposed to the
sorcerer," said I to the prince, when we were alone. "Do you believe
the second ghost to have been a real and true one? "

"I believe it! No, not now, most assuredly. "

"Not now? Then you did once believe it? "

"I confess I was tempted for a moment to believe it something more than
the contrivance of a juggler. "

"And I could wish to see the man who under similar circumstances would
not have had the same impression. But what reasons have you for
retracting your opinion? What the prisoner has related of the Armenian
ought to increase rather than diminish your belief in his super natural
powers. "

"What this wretch has related of him," said the prince, interrupting me
very gravely. "I hope," continued he, "you have now no doubt but that
we have had to do with a villain. "

"No; but must his evidence on that account--"

"The evidence of a villain, even supposing I had no other reason for
doubt, can have no weight against common sense and established truth.
Does a man who has already deceived me several times, and whose trade it
is to deceive, does he deserve to be heard in a cause in which the
unsupported testimony of even the most sincere adherent to truth could
not be received? Ought we to believe a man who perhaps never once spoke
truth for its own sake? Does such a man deserve credit, when he appears
as evidence against human reason and the eternal laws of nature? Would
it not be as absurd as to admit the accusation of a person notoriously
infamous against unblemished and irreproachable innocence? "

"But what motives could he have for giving so great a character to a man
whom he has so many reasons to hate? "

"I am not to conclude that he can have no motives for doing this because
I am unable to comprehend them. Do I know who has bribed him to deceive
me? I confess I cannot penetrate the whole contexture of his plan; but
he has certainly done a material injury to the cause he advocates by
proving himself to be at least an impostor, and perhaps something
worse. "

"The circumstance of the ring, I allow, appears somewhat suspicions. "

"It is more than suspicious," answered the prince; "it is decisive. He
received this ring from the murderer, and at the moment he received it
he must have been certain that it was from the murderer. Who but the
assassin, could have taken from the finger of the deceased a ring which
he undoubtedly never took off himself? Throughout the whole of his
narration the Sicilian has labored to persuade us that while he was
endeavoring to deceive Lorenzo, Lorenzo was in reality deceiving him.
Would he have had recourse to this subterfuge if he had not been
sensible how much he should lose in our estimation by confessing himself
an accomplice with the assassin? The whole story is visibly nothing but
a series of impostures, invented merely to connect the few truths he has
thought proper to give us. Ought I then to hesitate in disbelieving the
eleventh assertion of a person who has already deceived me ten times,
rather than admit a violation of the fundamental laws of nature, which I
have ever found in the most perfect harmony? "

"I have nothing to reply to all this, but the apparition we saw
yesterday is to me not the less incomprehensible. "

"It is also incomprehensible to me, although I have been tempted to
believe that I have found a key to it. "

"How so? " asked I.

"Do not you recollect that the second apparition, as soon as he entered,
walked directly up to the altar, took the crucifix in his hand, and
placed himself upon the carpet? "

"It appeared so to me. "

"And this crucifix, according to the Sicilian's confession, was a
conductor. You see that the apparition hastened to make himself
electrical. Thus the blow which Lord Seymour struck him with a sword
was of course ineffectual; the electric stroke disabled his arm. "

"This is true with respect to the sword. But the pistol fired by the
Sicilian, the ball of which we heard roll slowly upon the altar? "

"Are you convinced that this was the same ball which was fired from the
pistol? " replied the prince. "Not to mention that the puppet, or the
man who represented the ghost, may have been so well accoutred as to be
invulnerable by sword or bullet; but consider who it was that loaded the
pistols. "

"True," said I, and a sudden light broke upon my mind; "the Russian.
officer had loaded them, but it was in our presence. How could he have
deceived us? "

"Why should he not have deceived us? Did you suspect him sufficiently
to observe him? Did you examine the ball before it was put into the
pistol? May it not have been one of quicksilver or clay? Did you take
notice whether the Russian officer really put it into the barrel, or
dropped it into his other hand? But supposing that he actually loaded
the pistols, what is to convince you that he really took the loaded ones
into the room where the ghost appeared, and did not change them for
another pair, which he might have done the more easily as nobody ever
thought of noticing him, and we were besides occupied in undressing?
And could not the figure, at the moment when we were prevented from
seeing it by the smoke of the pistol, have dropped another ball, with
which it had been beforehand provided, on the the altar? Which of these
conjectures is impossible? "

"You are right. But that striking resemblance to your deceased friend!
I have often seen him with you, and I immediately recognized him in the
apparition. "

"I did the same, and I must confess the illusion was complete. But if
the juggler from a few stolen glances at my snuff-box was able to give
to his apparition a resemblance, what was to prevent the Russian
officer, who had used the box during the whole time of supper, who had
had liberty to observe the picture unnoticed, and to whom I had
discovered in confidence whom it represented, what was to prevent him
from doing the same? Add to this what has been before observed by the
Sicilian, that the prominent features of the marquis were so striking as
to be easily imitated; what is there so inexplicable in this second
ghost? "

"But the words he uttered? The information he gave you about your
friend? "

"What? " said the prince, "Did not the Sicilian assure us, that from
the little which he had learnt from me he had composed a similar story?
Does not this prove that the invention was obvious and natural?
Besides, the answers of the ghost, like those of an oracle, were so
obscure that he was in no danger of being detected in a falsehood. If
the man who personated the ghost possessed sagacity and presence of
mind, and knew ever-so-little of the affair on which he was consulted,
to what length might not he have carried the deception? "

"Pray consider, your highness, how much preparation such a complicated
artifice would have required from the Armenian; how much time it takes
to paint a face with sufficient exactness; how much time would have been
requisite to instruct the pretended ghost, so as to guard him against
gross errors; what a degree of minute attention to regulate every minor
attendant or adventitious circumstance, which must be answered in some
manner, lest they should prove detrimental! And remember that the
Russian officer was absent but half an hour. Was that short space
of time sufficient to make even such arrangements as were most
indispensable? Surely, my prince, not even a dramatic writer, who has
the least desire to preserve the three terrible unities of Aristotle,
durst venture to load the interval between one act and another with such
a variety of action, or to presume upon such a facility of belief in his
audience. "

"What! You think it absolutely impossible that every necessary
preparation should have been made in the space of half an hour? "

"Indeed, I look upon it as almost impossible. "

"I do not understand this expression. Does it militate against the
physical laws of time and space, or of matter and motion, that a man so
ingenious and so expert as this Armenian must undoubtedly be, assisted
by agents whose dexterity and acuteness are probably not inferior to his
own; favored by the time of night, and watched by no one, provided with
such means and instruments as a man of this profession is never without
--is it impossible that such a man, favored by such circumstances,
should be able to effect so much in so short a time? Is it ridiculous
or absurd to suppose, that by a very small number of words or signs he
can convey to his assistants very extensive commissions, and direct very
complex operations? Nothing ought to be admitted that is contrary to
the established laws of nature, unless it is something with which these
laws are absolutely incompatible. Would you rather give credit to a
miracle than admit an improbability? Would you solve a difficulty
rather by overturning the powers of nature than by believing an artful
and uncommon combination of them? "

"Though the fact will not justify a conclusion such as you have
condemned, you must, however, grant that it is far beyond our
conception. "

"I am almost tempted to dispute even this," said the prince, with a
quiet smile. "What would you say, my dear count, if it should be
proved, for instance, that the operations of the Armenian were prepared
and carried on, not only during the half-hour that he was absent from
us, not only in haste and incidentally, but during the whole evening and
the whole night? You recollect that the Sicilian employed nearly three
hours in preparation. "

"The Sicilian? Yes, my prince. "

"And how will you convince me that this juggler had not as much concern
in the second apparition as in the first? "

"How so, your highness? "

"That he was not the principal assistant of the Armenian? In a word,
how will you convince me that they did not co-operate? "

"It would be a difficult task to prove that," exclaimed I, with no
little surprise.

"Not so difficult, my dear count, as you imagine. What! Could it have
happened by mere chance that these two men should form a design so
extraordinary and so complicated upon the same person, at the same time,
and in the same place? Could mere chance have produced such an exact
harmony between their operations, that one of them should play so
exactly the game of the other? Suppose for a moment that the Armenian
intended to heighten the effect of his deception, by introducing it
after a less refined one--that he created a Hector to make himself his
Achilles. Suppose that he has done all this to discover what degree of
credulity he could expect to find in me, to examine the readiest way to
gain my confidence, to familiarize himself with his subject by an
attempt that might have miscarried without any prejudice to his plan; in
a word, to tune the instrument on which he intended to play. Suppose he
did this with the view of exciting my suspicions on one subject in order
to divert my attention from another more important to his design.
Lastly, suppose he wishes to have some indirect methods of information,
which he had himself occasion to practise, imputed to the sorcerer, in
order to divert suspicion from the true channel. "

"How do you mean? " said I.

"Suppose, for instance, that he may have bribed some of my servants to
give him secret intelligence, or, perhaps, even some papers which may
serve his purpose. I have missed one of my domestics. What reason have
I to think that the Armenian is not concerned in his leaving me? Such a
connection, however, if it existed, may be accidently discovered; a
letter may be intercepted; a servant, who is in the secret, may betray
his trust. Now all the consequence of the Armenian is destroyed if I
detect the source of his omniscience. He therefore introduces this
sorcerer, who must be supposed to have some design upon me. He takes
care to give me early notice of him and his intentions, so that whatever
I may hereafter discover my suspicions must necessarily rest upon the
Sicilian. This is the puppet with which he amuses me, whilst he
himself, unobserved and unsuspected, is entangling me in invisible
snares. "

"We will allow this. But is it consistent with the Armenian's plan that
he himself should destroy the illusion which he has created, and
disclose the mysteries of his science to the eyes of the uninitiated? "

"What mysteries does he disclose? None, surely, which he intends to
practise on me. He therefore loses nothing by the discovery. But,
on the other hand, what an advantage will he gain, if this pretended
victory over juggling and deception should render me secure and
unsuspecting; if he succeeds in diverting my attention from the right
quarter, and in fixing my wavering suspicions on an object the most
remote from the real one! He could naturally expect that, sooner or
later, either from my own doubts, or at the suggestion of another, I
should be tempted to seek a key to his mysterious wonders, in the mere
art of a juggler; how could he better provide against such an inquiry
than by contrasting his prodigies with juggling tricks. By confining
the latter within artificial limits, and by delivering, as it were, into
my hands a scale by which to appreciate them, he naturally exalts and
perplexes my ideas of the former. How many suspicions he precludes by
this single contrivance! How many methods of accounting for his
miracles, which afterwards have occurred to me, does he refute
beforehand! "

"But in exposing such a finished deception he has acted very much
against his own interest, both by quickening the penetration of those
whom he meant to impose upon, and by staggering their belief in miracles
in general. Your highness' self is the best proof of the insufficiency
of his plan, if indeed he ever had one. "

"Perhaps he has been mistaken in respect to myself," said the prince;
"but his conclusions have nevertheless been well founded. Could he
foresee that I should exactly notice the very circumstance which
threatens to become the key to the whole artifice? Was it in his plan
that the creature he employed should render himself thus vulnerable?
Are we certain that the Sicilian has not far exceeded his commission?
He has undoubtedly done so with respect to the ring, and yet it is
chiefly this single circumstance which determined my distrust in him.
How easily may a plan, whose contexture is most artful and refined, be
spoiled in the execution by an awkward instrument. It certainly was not
the Armenian's intention that the sorcerer should trumpet his fame to us
in the style of a mountebank, that he should endeavor to impose upon us
such fables as are too gross to bear the least reflection. For
instance, with what countenance could this impostor affirm that the
miraculous being he spoke of must renounce all commerce with mankind at
twelve in the night? Did we not see him among us at that very hour? "

"That is true," cried I. "He must have forgotten it. "

"It often happens, to people of this description, that they overact
their parts; and, by aiming at too much, mar the effects which a
well-managed deception is calculated to produce. "

"I cannot, however, yet prevail on myself to look upon the whole as a
mere preconcerted scheme. What! the Sicilian's terror, his convulsive
fits, his swoon, the deplorable situation in which we saw him, and which
was even such as to move our pity, were all these nothing more than a
studied part? I allow that a skilful performer may carry imitation to a
very high pitch, but he certainly has no power over the organs of life. "

"As for that, my friend," replied the prince, "I have seen Richard III.
performed by Garrick. But were we at that moment sufficiently cool to
be capable of observing dispassionately? Could we judge of the emotion
of the Sicilian when we were almost overcome by our own? Besides, the
decisive crisis even of a deception is so momentous to the deceiver
himself that excessive anxiety may produce in him symptoms as violent
as those which surprise excites in the deceived. Add to this the
unexpected entrance of the watch. "

"I am glad you remind me of that, prince. Would the Armenian have
ventured to discover such a dangerous scheme to the eye of justice; to
expose the fidelity of his creature to so severe a test? And for what
purpose? "

"Leave that matter to him; he is no doubt acquainted with the people he
employs. Do we know what secret crimes may have secured him the silence
of this man? You have been informed of the office he holds in Venice;
what difficulty will he find in saving a man of whom he himself is the
only accuser? "

[This suggestion of the prince was but too well justified by the event.
For, some days after, on inquiring after the prisoner, we were told that
he had escaped, and had not since been heard of. ]

"You ask what could be his motives for delivering this man into the
hands of justice? " continued the prince. "By what other method, except
this violent one, could he have wrested from the Sicilian such an
infamous and improbable confession, which, however, was so material to
the success of his plan? Who but a man whose case is desperate, and who
has nothing to lose, would consent to give so humiliating an account of
himself? Under what other circumstances could we have believed such a
confession? "

"I grant all this, my prince. That the two apparitions were mere
contrivances of art; that the Sicilian has imposed upon us a tale which
the Armenian his master, had previously taught him; that the efforts of
both have been directed to the same end, and, from this mutual
intelligence all the wonderful incidents which have astonished us in
this adventure may be easily explained. But the prophecy in the square
of St. Mark, that first miracle, which, as it were, opened the door to
all the rest, still remains unexplained; and of what use is the key to
all his other wonders if we despair of resolving this single one?