"What do you know of the Palazzo Morone, Signore?"
"Oh, there is one then!"
"Yes, Illustrious! It is haunted!"
"Haunted! Nonsense!"
"Dio! Signore, I speak the truth. No one has lived there for the last two hundred years. It is shut up for the rats and the owls and the spectres of the tomb."
"What tomb--this one?"
"Ah, Signore, do not jest, I pray you, or the illustrious Signori Morone will hear us."
Peppino looked so serious that I forebore to smile at this absurdity, lest I should offend his pride and thus lose the story.
"Well, Peppino, tell me all about this haunted palace."
"Not here, Signore, I am afraid!"
"Then help me back to the carriage."
He obeyed with great alacrity, and, when I was once more in the fiacre, prepared to loosen his horse.
"No, no! Peppino," I said, smiling; "the ghosts can't hear us here, so tell me the story of the Morone."
Peppino cast a doubtful glance in the direction of the burial-ground, and then, seating himself on the step of the carriage, began his story. His Italian, as I have said before, was very good, so, making him speak slowly, I was easily able to understand the strange legend he related.
"Signore," he began, with a solemn look on his usually merry face, "the Morone were very famous in Verona four hundred years ago. Dio! they fought with the Scaligers, and afterwards with the Visconti. They were Podestas of the city before the Della Scala, and several of them were great Cardinals. One would have been his Holiness himself, but the Borgia asked him to supper and he died of their poison. About two hundred years ago Mastino Morone wedded the Donna Renata della Moneta, who was said to have been descended on the wrong side from Donna Lucrezia herself."
"You mean that this Renata was an illegitimate descendant of Lucrezia Borgia?"
"Yes, Signore. Ah! she was a devil of a woman, that Madonna Lucrezia. Ebbene! Signore. This Donna Renata wedded with Count Mastino Morone, and a pleasant life she led him, for she loved all other men but him. Cospetto! he would have strangled her, but he was afraid of her many lovers. There was a room in the Palazzo Morone, without any windows, where Donna Renata supped with those she favoured."
"And the room is there still?" I said, thinking of that mysterious chamber.
"Of a surety, Signore! It is haunted by the ghost of the Marchese Tisio!"
"Who was he?"
"Signore, he was the last lover of Donna Renata, whom she killed with the Borgia poison because he was faithless. Eh! it is true, Illustrious. She found out by her spies that the Marchese loved another, so she asked him to a last feast in her room, and when he was going she gave him a cup of wine. Dio! he drank it, the poor young man, and died. Ecco!"
"And why was he her last lover? Did she repent?"
"No, Signore! The Count Mastino was watching at the door, and when she had killed the Marchese he went in to see her."
"And killed her, I suppose?"
"Per Bacco! Signore, no one knows. She never came out of that room again. The friends of the poor Tisio found his body, but they never found Donna Renata."
"Then what became of her?"
"Cospetto! No one ever found out. Mastino married again and said nothing, but after that last feast his first wife was never seen again. Diamine! it is strange."
"It's a curious story, Peppino, but it does not explain how the palace is haunted."
"Listen, Illustrious! I will tell," said Peppino in a subdued whisper. "The spirits of the Donna Renata, of the Conte Mastino, and of the Marchese Tisio, haunt the palace, and in the Month of May, when the crime was committed, the lovers hold a feast in that secret room while the husband watches at the door. Then the Donna Renata poisons the Marchese, the husband enters, and cries of pain and terror are heard. Then the lights go out and all is still."
It was certainly very curious, for Peppino was describing the very same I had beheld--the terrible Renata, the unhappy lover, and the poisoned cup, but the Count----
"Tell me, Peppino, has any one ever beheld this feast of ghosts?"
"Dio! Signore, the people who lived in the palace were so afraid of the ghosts, that they left altogether, and no one has lived there for two hundred years."
"Yes, yes! but this spectral banquet seems all imagination--no one has seen it?"
"Yes, Signore. A holy Frate, who did not fear the devil, went one night in May and saw the feast through the door, but just as the poisoned cup was given, the ghost of the Conte dragged him away and tried to kill him."
"Oh! and did the ghost succeed?"
"No, Illustrious! The Frate made the sign of the cross and called on the Madonna, on which the ghosts all vanished with loud cries, and the Frate fainted. Next morning he found himself----"
"In the Piazza Vittorio Emanuele?"
"No, Signore; lying on the floor of the palace."
I was somewhat disappointed at this different ending to the narrative of Peppino, but it was very extraordinary that my adventure and that of the Frate should be so similar. It was broad day, I had overcome my superstitious fancies, yet the whole affair was so strange that I could not help feeling a qualm of fear, which I tried to laugh off, a proceeding which mightily offended Peppino.
"Signore, it is the truth I tell."
"Suppose I prove it, Peppino. This is the month of May, and no doubt the feast takes place every night. You will show me the palace, and I will watch at the door of the secret room."
"Dio! do not think of it, Illustrious," cried Peppino in alarm; "the Frate himself, a holy priest, was nearly killed, and you, Signore, you are a heretic."
"And, therefore, liable to be carried off by his Satanic Majesty. You are complimentary, Peppino. Nevertheless, to-morrow you must show me the palace."
"The Illustrious must excuse me."
"And watch with me for this feast of ghosts."
"Dio? the Signore jests!"
"No, indeed, Peppino! I am in sober earnest. We will go to the Palazzo Morone to-morrow; and now drive back to my hotel, as I feel very tired. Your story has been very entertaining, nevertheless."
"Ah! the Signor does not believe me?" said Peppino, getting on the box again.
"Yes, I do, Peppino; but I believe your ghostly party can be explained away."
CHAPTER IV.
THE
