Free Penny Dreadful Multipack Vol. 1 (Illustrated. Annotated. 'Wagner The Wehr-Wolf,' 'Varney The Vampire,' 'The Mysteries of London Vol. 1' + Bonus Features) (Penny Dreadful Multipacks) by George W. M. Reynolds, James Malcolm Rymer Page B

me; I  
felt
  that she was. A certain uneasy
sensation—amounting almost to a superstitious awe—convinced me that I was the
object of her undivided attention. Suddenly the priests, in procession, came
down from the altar; and as they passed us, I instinctively raised my veil
again, through motives of deferential respect. At the same instant I glanced
toward the stranger lady; she also drew back the dark covering from her face.
Oh! what a countenance was then revealed to me—a countenance of such sovereign
beauty that, though of the same sex, I was struck with admiration; but, in the
next moment, a thrill of terror shot through my heart—for the fascination of
the basilisk could scarcely paralyze its victim with more appalling effect than
did the eyes of that lady. It might be conscience qualms, excited by some
unknown influence—it might even have been imagination; but it nevertheless
appeared as if those large, black, burning orbs shot forth lightnings which
seared and scorched my very soul! For that splendid countenance, of almost
unearthly beauty, was suddenly marked by an expression of such vindictive rage,
such ineffable hatred, such ferocious menace, that I should have screamed had I
not been as it were stunned—stupefied!
    “The procession of priests swept
past. I averted my head from the stranger lady. In a few moments I again
glanced hurriedly at the place which she had occupied—but she was gone. Then I
felt relieved! On quitting the church, I frankly narrated to old Margaretha
these particulars as I have now unfolded them to you; and methought that she
was for a moment troubled as I spoke! But if she were, she speedily recovered
her composure—endeavored to soothe me by attributing it all to my imagination,
and earnestly advised me not to cause any uneasiness to the count by mentioning
the subject to him. I readily promised compliance with this injunction; and in
the course of a few days ceased to think upon the incident which has made so
strange but evanescent an impression on my mind.”
    “Doubtless Dame Margaretha was
right in her conjecture,” said Wagner; “and your imagination——”
    “Oh, no—no! It was not fancy!”
interrupted Agnes, hastily. “But listen, and then judge for yourself. I
informed you ere   now that it was
about six months ago when the event which I have just related took place. At
that period, also, my noble lover—the ever-to be lamented Andrea—first
experienced the symptoms of that internal disease which has, alas! carried him
to the tomb.”
    Agnes paused, wiped away her
tears, and continued thus:
    “His visits to me consequently
became less frequent;—I was more alone—for Margaretha was not always a
companion who could solace me for the absence of one so dearly loved as my
Andrea; and repeated fits of deep despondency seized upon my soul. At those
times I felt as if some evil—vague and undefinable, but still terrible—were
impending over me. Was it my lord’s approaching death of which I had a
presentiment? I know not! Weeks passed away; the count’s visits occurred at
intervals growing longer and longer—but his affection toward me had not abated.
No: a malady that preyed upon his vitals retained him much at home;—and at
last, about two months ago, I received through Antonio the afflicting
intelligence that he was confined to his bed. My anguish now knew no bounds. I
would fly to him—oh! I would fly to him:—who was more worthy to watch by his
couch than I, who so dearly loved him! Dame Margaretha represented to me how
painful it would be to his lordship were our  
amour
  to transpire through any rash
proceeding on my part—the more so, as I knew that he had a daughter and a son!
I accordingly restrained my impetuous longing to hasten to his bedside:—I could
not so easily subdue my grief!
    “One night I sat up late in my
lonely chamber—pondering on the melancholy position in which I was
placed,—loving so tenderly, yet not daring to