Zoe had been unfortunate from her birth. Her mother having accompanied the old Duke upon an embassy to Constantinople, had happened to please the fancy of the reigning Emperor so forcibly, that, contrary to the advice of his counsellors, he had married her. Disproportioned marriages are seldom happy ones: and that of the parents of Zoe formed no exception to the general rule. The Emperor soon repented his rashness, and, becoming tired of his wife, treated her with coldness and neglect; whilst she, far removed from all her former friends, and finding herself despised by the man for whose sake she had sacrificed everything, lingered a few years and then died unheeded and forlorn, leaving only the hapless Zoe to lament her fate.
The Emperor married again; and Zoe dragged on a miserable existence, till in an insurrection of the Greeks, her father had been murdered, and she herself compelled to fly from Constantinople. She had repaired first to Africa; but finding her grandfather was in Spain, she followed him thither, and still remained with him, under the protection of Roderick.
It was, indeed, the aristocracy of Spain for which the Irish hero was now principally fighting; for they had suffered most severely from the licentious conduct of the soldiers, and were most earnest in imploring his assistance. When the seat of the Spanish monarchy had been removed to Africa, most of the nobles followed in its train, whilst those who remained became objects of hate and suspicion to the republican governments that ensued. Still, however, the amor patriae glowed strongly in their breasts, and chained them to their country; and they had submitted patiently to innumerable grievances, till, a few months before they applied to Roderick, finding the insolence of the soldiers become insupportable, they determined to throw off the yoke, and reestablish a monarchy in Spain.
For this purpose, they invited Don Pedro, a younger branch of their former Royal family, to come over from Africa to accept their throne. He complied, and brought in his train many of the old nobility; amongst the rest the venerable Duke of Medina Celina, whose most passionate wish was, that he might die and be entombed in Spain. Don Pedro was unsuccessful, and fled; but many of those who had accompanied him remained, and, with the resident Spanish nobility, now formed the splendid Court of Roderick at Cadiz.
The Duke received Edric kindly, and treated Roderick with that enthusiastic devotion, which is, beyond all other praise, flattering to the mind of man. Zoe never spoke, nor did her features betray that she took the slightest interest in the scene before her. It has been before observed, that education was carried to such a pitch in England, that all, even the common people, were universal linguists. Instruction indeed, in that respect, was imparted in many brief and ingenious modes; and knowledge being thus rendered so cheap and easy, as to be à la portée de tout le monde, it of course was going partially out of fashion with the higher classes; but as Sir Ambrose piqued himself on his devotion to all the old customs, he would not swerve from them in the education of his sons; and in consequence, Edric was almost as learned in this respect as a servant or a labourer.
This had often been a source of chagrin to him at home, as it prevented his feeling upon equal terms with those in the same situation of life as himself, and had contributed greatly to give him those shy and reserved manners we have noticed. On the present occasion, however, Edric found his learning advantageous, as it enabled him to enjoy thoroughly the animated and entertaining conversation of the old Duke. After a lively and spirited discussion of the manners of the age generally, and the state of Spain in particular, the friends retired, having first obtained a promise from the Duke and Zoe to be present at a grand tournament Roderick intended giving on the following day.
“Well, Edric!” said Roderick, “what think you of the Princess Zoe?”
“That she would be charming, if she had a little more soul.”
“I am surprised at your making such an observation, Edric. I thought you were fond of still life, or you would not feel so anxious about your Mummy.”
“Oh, for God’s sake! do not joke me upon that subject; it is too solemn, too awful!”
“At least, your doubts are now satisfied.”
“Not at all,” returned Edric; “for I cannot help imagining it was only permitted to appear resuscitated to punish my presumptuous daring; and its mysterious disappearance, added to the strange and fearful adventures which have since attended us, only tends to confirm my opinion.”
“It must have excited a horrible feeling when you first saw it stir,” observed Roderick.
“Words cannot express the agony of that moment,” replied Edric, “when I saw my strange unearthly wishes gratified, and felt the impiety I had been guilty of in having formed them; and I would have given worlds to restore the Mummy to the deep sleep I had disturbed. It was then, however, too late.”
“Can you form any idea of what has become of it.”
“None. If the Egyptian’s story be correct, that it contrived to reinflate the balloon, and carried it away, it is quite impossible to say how far it might go, as the Mummy could not possibly understand the management of the machine, though he might accidentally fill it.”
“Would it relieve you to think the Mummy safe in England?”
“Oh no! I shudder at the thought.”
“Well, well, then it is useless to make yourself unhappy about the subject. Depend upon it, all is for the best. I am sure, for my part, I am very much obliged to the resuscitated gentleman; as, if it had
