I will
not go down to the dishonored grave, now yawning for me, permitting,
by silence, your Highness, and these your subjects, to believe me
the monster of ingratitude, the treacherous coward which appearances
pronounce me. No!" he continued, raising his right hand as high as
his fetters would permit, and speaking in a tone which fell with
the eloquence of truth, on every heart--"No: here, as on the
scaffold--now, as with my dying breath, I will proclaim aloud my
innocence; I call on the Almighty Judge himself, as on every Saint
in heaven, to attest it--ay, and I believe it WILL be attested, when
nought but my memory is left to be cleared from shame--I am not the
murderer of Don Ferdinand Morales! Had he been in every deed my
foe--had he given me cause for the indulgence of those ungovernable
passions which I now feel were roused against him so causelessly and
sinfully, I might have sought their gratification by honorable combat,
but not by midnight murder! I speak not, I repeat, to save my life: it
is justly forfeited for thoughts of crime! I speak that, when in after
years my innocence will be made evident by the discovery of the real
assassin, you will all remember what I now say--that I have not so
basely requited the King and Country who so generously and trustingly
befriended me--that I am no murderer!"
"Then, if so convinced of innocence, young man, wherefore not attempt
defence?" demanded the Sub-Prior of St.
Pages:
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206