“Well,” said this strange personage, in loud and scornful tones, “what sayest thou of torture? That is the just reward for thy cowardice: if thou hadst not betrayed the secret of the chief of the Independents, thou wouldst already have been out of this, in a place of safety, and no injury would have befallen thee. I now come, out of pity, to offer thee deliverance upon condition. If thou wilt consent to it, and swallow the contents of this flask, full of an elixir composed of the heart blood of thy child, thy wounds shall be immediately cured, and I will restore thee to liberty.”

  Andres was dumb with fear. He thought himself in the presence of the angel of darkness, and inwardly prayed God to protect him against the assaults of Satan. Then the spectre, divining his thoughts, vanished with a laugh that shook the vault of the dungeon, and Andres saw no further trace of this apparition.

  When he had become calm, and sought in his damp straw a little repose, he felt a new surprise, on seeing the straw move under the pillow. He at the same time perceived that a stone had been moved and pulled out from beneath. By this forced communication with the room below, he really heard the voice of Ignaz Denner calling him.

  “What more dost thou desire of me, odious demon, who hast been my evil genius? Thou canst do nothing more to complete my ruin. Leave me to die in peace!”

  “You rave then,” exclaimed Denner; “despair! that is the last resource of cowards. More skilful and resolute than thou art, I have succeeded in saving my head from the gallows, and I have passed through a thousand dangers to come to thee. I come to offer thee safety, not for thyself, for I despise thee — but for thy poor wife, who would want for bread and shelter from the day that sees her the widow of a criminal. Take this file and this saw; with the file you can loosen your irons in a few hours; with the saw you can take off the lock of your dungeon; it opens into a subterranean gallery; you will find a door open on the left; this opening will conduct you without hindrance out of the prison. A little further on you will find one of my companions, disguised like a beggar, who will guide you to a place of safety. Farewell, and good luck go with you!”

  Andres took the instruments brought him by the bandit chief, then placed the stone back again, and waited for daylight. When the jailer came to visit him, he asked to be taken before the judge, to make an important disclosure.

  On arriving before the magistrate, Andres gave him the file and saw, and confessed the nocturnal visit that he had received from Ignaz Denner. “However innocent I may be of the crimes imputed to me,” added he.

  “I did not wish to gain my safety by a shameful flight. May God’s will be done by me.”

  The tribunal being informed of what had passed, was moved to compassion for Andres. New examinations were had, and whilst awaiting their result, the prisoner was removed into a chamber of the prison where he was granted all the indulgences suitable to the solemnity of his situation. The necessary delays for the last investigations of justice continued for nearly a year longer. They learned that the band of Independents extended its influence as far as Italy; and as the innocence of Andres could not be clearly established, he was included in the same sentence that condemned Ignaz Denner to capital punishment. But in consideration of the timely notice he had given of the proposed escape of Denner, the sentence was modified so as to allow his body to receive the burial rights of the church.

  The morning of the execution, Andres, on his knees in the cell, prayed God to come to the assistance of his wife and child, when he saw the door of his dungeon open, and the nephew of Count de Bach appeared before him.

  “Andres,” said the young lord to him gravely, “thou art about to die; this is the moment to frankly confess thy crimes, so that God may have mercy upon thee. Tell me then if it is true that thou hast murdered my uncle, and taken part in the pillage of the castle. I promise to pardon thee, and have masses said for the repose of thy soul.”

  Andres began to weep bitterly, and repeated that he was in that affair, the victim of an odious machination; and he swore that he was innocent, on the hope that he had of awaking in paradise, after so cruel an expiation of the follies of his life.

  “But if thou art innocent,” replied the Count de Bach, “something is occurring here that is strange and fearful. I was myself led to believe that thou couldst not be soiled with the murder of my uncle, whom thou hast faithfully served many years; and yet yesterday again, Franz and Nickolas, the two favorite huntsmen of my uncle, assured me that they had recognized thee among the brigands, and that they had seen thee give the death blow to thy unfortunate master.”

  Andres knew not what answer to make. There was only one thing to suppose; which was, that Satan had taken his form to ruin him; and he finally submitted to the fate which awaited him, leaving to God alone the care of sooner or later justifying him.

  The young count retired, manifesting much emotion, after having promised the poor condemned man that his wife and child should find a home with him during their life time. The city bells soon announced, by a funeral tolling, that the moment for the execution had nearly arrived. The soldiers came to conduct Andres to the place where the scaffold was already raised. The poor fellow recited his prayers in a loud voice, and excited general commiseration. But Ignaz Denner, whose proud face expressed deep villainy, walked along amid the imprecations of the people.

  Andres, first designated for execution, with a firm step mounted the scaffold. At this moment a woman uttered a piercing cry, and fell fainting into the arms of the spectators. The condemned man turned his head, and recognized Giorgina. “All powerful God,” exclaimed he, “be a father to her here below, and deign some day to re-unite us above!”

  Meanwhile the magistrate charged with presiding over the execution, fearing a movement among the people, made a sign to the hangman to hasten; and the rope was already around the neck of the criminal, when a man on horseback, riding at full gallop, made his way towards them, waving his hat, and crying out—” Stop! stop! you are killing an innocent man!”

  The crowd replied to this by a hurrah of applause; and the executioner was obliged to suspend his work, for the people were scaling the scaffold, and the guards could no longer resist the pressure. The horseman whose coming had produced this sensation, was the Frankfort banker who had paid the two thousand ducats bequeathed to Giorgina by the Neapolitan inn-keeper. He declared to the magistrate that Andres was in person at his house in Frankfort, the same day that the castle of Bach was pillaged; and that proofs existed of this fact. The magistrate stopped the execution, and the two criminals were re-conducted to prison. On arriving there, Andres found his wife, who gave way to extravagant joy, after so much suffering.

  A lucky providence had brought back to Fulda, the very day of the punishment, the Frankfort banker, who during the whole progress of the trial had been travelling in France and Italy. He returned home by the way of Vienna and Prague, where he heard the history of the head game-keeper of Count de Bach. This relation had struck him like a thunder-clap, and he had hastened to prevent, if it were yet possible, a deplorable error of justice.

  Andres’ trial was reviewed, and Denner himself, struck with surprise, and believing that a supernatural power was mixed up with this adventure, confessed the falsity of his accusations. Andres was then set at liberty, for the judges thought that he had suffered enough to atone for his presence at the attack on the farm, and the fault that he had committed in not giving up Denner to justice as soon as he had become acquainted with his misdeeds. The Count de Bach, to console him for so many difficulties, confided to him the superintendence of all his hunting grounds, with a residence for his family in his own castle, which had been splendidly re-built.

  Whilst Andres forgot, in the arms of his wife, of his child and their friends, the cruel trials from which he had only escaped by a kind of miracle, justice armed herself with new rigor against Ignaz Denner. The former chief of the bandits having no further hopes of safety, so many precautions were multiplied about him to prevent the least attempt at escape, tried by a dramatic effect to frighten the tribunal and the spectators by the detailed circumstances of his life. He confessed that from his tenderest youth he had become bound by a criminal compact with the devil.

  This avowal caused the intervention of the ecclesiastical jurisdiction. — Here are the most curious facts that I could collect in the archives at Fulda concerning Ignaz Denner.

  There lived in Naples an old physician named Trabacchio, who was called by the people, Doctor Miracle, on account of the prodigious cures which he performed. It seemed as if this strange man did not grow old, for he was always seen to walk with a light and youthful step, although the citizens averred that he was at least eighty years old. His face was really ugly; and there was something frightful in his look. Nothing of his outside appearance corresponded with the good that he had done, for all the talk was of his skilfulness and devotion.

  He gave unknown remedies to his patients, and sometimes he had caused incurable diseases to disappear, by fixing his eye for some time on the diseased part.

  Master Trabacchio wore over his usual black costume, a red cloak, ornamented with embroidery in gold, in the folds of which was hidden a long rapier. Dressed in this manner, he walked about the streets of Naples, carrying under his cloak a casket of medicines, and all that he met stood aside, and saluted him with trembling respect. They rarely dared to have recourse to him, except in extreme cases, and he then went without pay among poor people.

  The doctor had had several wires, chosen from among the most beautiful girls in the vicinity of Naples; they had successively died at short intervals. During their life time, he kept them shut up, and did not allow them to go to church, except under the escort of a duenna, horribly ugly and rigorously incorruptible. Thus the Don Juans, the most dreaded by Neapolitan husbands, had never been able to gain admission into the house of Trabacchio.

  Although he was often called to visit the richest people, it was publicly notorious that his ordinary gains corresponded in no degree with the extraordinary opulence that reigned in his dwelling. He was generous to prodigality, and every time he lost a wife, he gave a funeral ceremony, the cost of which was double the sum that he could earn in a year.

  His last wife had given him a son, who had been educated in the most absolute secresy. He was only seen once, at the age of three years, seated by his father’s side, at the funeral of the doctor’s last wife. On this occasion, Trabacchio announced to the guests, that his wish for a son having been fulfilled, he should not marry again.

  From that time, he re-commenced his kind of mysterious life, which gave rise to the strangest conjectures; but he himself cared very little for what was said concerning him.

  One day a singular adventure happened to some young lords, on their return from a feast, which gave rise to the report that the physician Trabacchio was in relation with the devil. These gentlemen, being lost in the neighborhood of the city, thanks to the fumes of the wine which had somewhat blinded them, found themselves suddenly in a square formed by several cross roads. An infernal noise struck upon their ears. They saw an immense cock, of the color of fire, strutting about, having instead of a comb an immense pair of stag horns, and angrily shaking his wings. Behind the cock stood a person wearing a scarlet cloak, and having a striking resemblance to the physician Trabacchio.

  One of the young lords said to his friends:— “Did you not see Doctor Miracle?” This frightful vision sobered them, and they followed the Doctor and the cock, as they left behind them a luminous track, like the brilliance of phosphorus. They saw these two strange beings stop before Trabacchio’s house. The cock flew into the air, and knocked with its beak at the window of the upper story, which opened into a balcony. A cracked voice answered from within:— “Come in, come in quickly; the bed is warm, and the loved one is impatient!”

  At these words, the man in the scarlet cloak rose in the air, moving his legs as if he was climbing an invisible ladder. At the height of the window he entered as the cock had done, and the window closed with a noise that could be heard from one end of the street to the other; then all was again silence and darkness, and the young men returned, filled with fear.

  The narration that they made of what they had seen awakened the suspicions of the Inquisition, which had long exercised a secret watchfulness over the actions of Master Trabacchio. They discovered that he very often had conferences with a red cock, and that they discussed an occult science, concerning which they talked in a language of which no alphabet existed on the earth. The holy office was about to order the prosecution of Doctor Miracle as a sorcerer, when secular justice preceded them by having him arrested as he was returning from a visit to a patient. His child had not been found at his house. His old female servant was secretly confined, and the house was closely guarded.

  The motive for this rigorous measure was nothing less than the report that was current, of a great number of deaths by poison in Naples and its environs, and which the physicians, jealous of the success and practice of Trabacchio, had not hesitated to ascribe to him. The suspicion was quickly changed into certainty, when a young man, whose uncle had just died by poison, confessed himself the author of the crime, adding to this declaration, that he had committed it by means of a drug sold him by the physician Trabacchio.

  The officers of the police, who had for some time observed all that happened in the neighborhood of the doctor’s house, seized one day from the hands of his old female servant, a casket, in which were found several phials filled with poisonous liquids. This woman, subjected to torture, confessed that for a number of years, her master had prepared a subtle poison, under the name of “aqua tofana,” the action of which was so rapid and so sure to escape examination, that the experiments he had made, with the greatest secresy, to the profit of persons of note, had in a short time gained him an immense fortune.

  She revealed, besides, that Doctor Trabacchio held constant intercourse with infernal spirits, and that Satan had appeared to him several times, under different forms. Each one of his wives had borne him a child, whose existence had never been made known. As soon as the unfortunate little creature had attained its ninth week, or its ninth month, he mercilessly killed it. He opened its breast, took out the heart, the blood of which was distilled, drop by drop, with magical ceremonies, and entered into the composition of a famous elixir, by means of which Trabacchio cured all kinds of diseases. Soon afterwards, Trabacchio caused the death of his wives, by secret means, which left no sign on their bodies of violent death. His last wife alone still lived, undoubtedly because her child had escaped, by a singular caprice, from the hideous operations of its father.

  Doctor Miracle, interrogated concerning all these facts, far from seeking to defend himself, began to relate to the judges, with frightful cynicism, a multitude of mysteries, each more horrible than the other, and he did not forget the most trifling detail of his interviews with Satan. The priests who formed a part of the tribunal, exhausted themselves in vain efforts to lead him to repentance; to all their exhortations, Trabacchio only answered by sneers and insolent mockery. He was condemned to punishment by fire, together with his old accomplice.

  During their trial, the doctor’s house was searched from top to bottom, and all his riches placed under seal, to be distributed among the hospitals. They were astonished at not finding in his library any book relating to the occult science, and in his laboratory no instrument whose use was not known, and which might be, on that account, suspected of having served in practices of sorcery. Nothing singular was remarked, except a cellar, the door of which was so artistically closed, that the most skilful locksmiths who were called to open it could not succeed. It was necessary to call, for the purpose of demolishing the wall, masons, under the direction of the police. But, at the first blows of the pickaxe, to undermine the wall, there was heard in the depths of the cavern a confused mixture of lamenting voices, as if a violent struggle was going on in this castle of iniquities. The masons thought that they felt the flapping of wings in their faces, and the passage way which led to the cavern was suddenly filled with a chilling wind, that whistled in its course. This trial was so powerful that they tremblingly fled, and no others dared to expose themselves to the terrors of the fatal cavern. Several priests having tried to brave what they called a panic of fear, were so rudely assailed, that no other resource could be thought of, than the exorcisms of an old Dominican monk of Palermo, who was sent for by the authorities of Naples, to exorcise the demon of Doctor Trabacchio.

  When this monk arrived, he went to the cellar, followed by a small number of ecclesiastics and judges, who prudently stopped at the entrance of the passage way. He advanced towards the fatal door, reciting a prayer whose effects were to be immediate. At his approach the noise within redoubled in violence, and, this time, it could not be denied that they were infernal voices which caused this strange confusion. The Dominican, without being frightened, raised in one hand a crucifix, and sprinkled holy water with the other upon the door of the cellar, crying out:— “Bring me a lever!”

  A workman held it towards him at arms-length, with fear and trembling; but this instrument had hardly been applied to the bottom of the door, when it opened of itself, suddenly, and with a loud crash.

  A blue and fetid flame spotted the pavement of the cellar, from which escaped a burning vapor. The monk wished to attempt an entrance; but hardly had he placed his foot upon the door sill, when the earth caved in with such terrible commotion that the whole house came near following it; jets of blood-red flame arose from this gulf, as from a mouth of hell, and falling back in a shower of fire, forced all the spectators, and even the old monk himself, to fly precipitately, to avoid being devoured by this supernatural conflagration.

  Hardly had they reached the street, when they saw Trabacchio’s house in flames. An immense crowd hastened towards this spectacle with cries of joy. The house was no longer sustained except by the first floor beams, and the whole of this burning mass was likely to fall into a heap, from one moment to another, when they perceived, with affright, Trabacchio’s son, a child of hardly twelve years of age, passing through the flames on a half burnt timber, carrying a little casket under his arm.

 

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