you, Pancratius, take me with you! Remember, you are
about to intrust yourself alone with an aristocrat, a betrayer, an
oppressor....

PANCRATIUS (_interrupting him, and impatiently gesturing to him to
remain behind_). The old nobles seldom broke a plighted promise!

* * * * *

A vast feudal hall in the castle of Count Henry. Pictures of
knights and ladies hang upon the walls. A pillar is seen in the
background bearing the arms and escutcheons of the family. The
Count is seated at a marble table upon which are placed an antique
lamp of wrought silver, a jewel-hilted sword, a pair of pistols, an
hourglass, and clock. Another table stands on the opposite side,
with silver pitchers, decanters, and massive goblets.

THE MAN. At the same hour, surrounded by appalling perils, agitated by
foreboding thoughts, the last Brutus met his Evil Genius.

I await a like apparition. A man without a name, without ancestors,
without a faith or guardian angel; a man who is destroying the Past, and
who will, in all probability, establish a new era, though himself sprung
from the very dust, if I cannot succeed in casting him back into his
original nothingness--is now to appear before me!

Spirit of my forefathers! inspire me with that haughty energy which once
rendered you the rulers of the world! Give me the lion heart which erst
throbbed in your dauntless breasts! Give me your peerless dignity, your
noble and chivalric courtesy!

Rekindle in my wavering soul your blind, undoubting, earnest faith in
Christ and in His church: at once the source of your noblest deeds on
earth, your brightest hopes in heaven! Oh, let it open for me, as it was
wont to do for you; and I will struggle with fire and sword against its
enemies! Hear me, the son of countless generations, the sole heir of
your thoughts, your courage, your virtues, and your faults!

The castle bell sounds twelve.

It is the appointed hour: I am prepared!

An old and faithful servant, Jacob, enters, fully armed.

JACOB. My lord, the person whom your excellency expects is in the
castle.

THE MAN. Admit him here.

Exit Jacob.

He reappears, announcing Pancratius, and again retires.

PANCRATIUS. Count Henry, I salute you! The word 'count' sounds strangely
on my lips.

He seats himself, throws off his cloak and liberty cap, and fastens
his eyes on the pillar on which hang the