Emily Barlow
LETTER 11
Sylvia Carey to Emily Barlow
Toulon, France
Emily-It is impossible at once to shake off our earliest acquaintance; if it had been you ought not to have expected that I should have taken any notice of your disgusting letters. What offence have I ever given that you should insult me by writing in the language you have? Why annoy me with an account of the libidinous scenes acted between you and the beast whose infamous and lustful acts you so particularly describe? Did I not know the character of your writing well, I should be in hopes I was deceived by some wretch. But no, every part of your writing carries conviction. I have to thank God the letters fell into my hands, else your infamy would have dragged another crime on your guilty head by the death of my unfortunate brother who most certainly would have fallen under the dreadful discovery if he had by accident gone (which he most usually does) to the post office for our letters. Although the letters were directed to me, he would assuredly have opened them had he seen your writing. But thank God this pang has at present been spared him. After you sailed from Portsmouth, Henry's health became daily worse, and the physicians declared that nothing but a warmer climate would save his life. I was therefore determined to pass the summer in the South of France and the neighbourhood of this place was fixed upon for our residence. Your mother determined to accompany us. We made the journey by stages, and on arriving here hired a most delightful cottage, a short walk outside the fortifications of the town, opposite the sea. Here Henry's health has daily improved, and both our parents are in hopes of his entire recovery. The time when he expects to hear from you in India is not yet expired, so at present he is easy on this point. God knows what the result will be when he hears of your debased situation, and the infamous satisfaction it gives you! Your mother is the only person I have dared to communicate the sad tidings to, and we have given particular direction to the postmaster at Toulon not to permit Henry to have any letters directed to either of us. We therefore feel sure that none of your letters can fall into his hands. I cannot describe your mother's grief, which she is obliged to hide from my brother; it is
the redemption of slaves; but the nature of your letters has so distracted your mother that she does not know how to proceed, or whether it is your wish to be released from the infamous subjection in which your beastly ravisher seems to hold both your person and senses. If there is a spark of feeling, on your mother's account (or modesty on your own) left, make no delay in letting me know if you wish to escape from the wretch who thus holds you in his thraldom. I subscribe myself still your friend (if you deserve it),
Sylvia Carey
This letter was written before the receipt of Emily's last letter.
LETTER 12
The Dey to Abdallah Abdallah-A short time back several missionaries arrived here from the South of France since their arrival they have been employed in redeeming several worn-out old male slaves, mostly Frenchmen. They have petitioned me to grant them a passage home in the first ship that leaves for the port of Toulon.
For the reason herein explained, I have appointed you to carry them to France. As these holy hypocrites have great influence in their own country, be careful you treat them with the proper respect and attention during their voyage, as their countenance may be serviceable, particularly Father Angelo, who will supply you with every information you want respecting an English family now residing in the neighbourhood of Toulon. In this family is a young woman named Sylvia Carey.-'This girl, Abdallah, you must contrive to secure and bring back with you to Algiers.
The eunuch who delivers this will give you a private signet, which you may show as soon as you think proper to Father Angelo; it will command his services, and you may rely implicitly upon everything the Christian dog says or does. Mind, Abdallah, I have set my mind on having possession of the girl; do not return without her. Name your own reward, but be careful she is mine.
Ali
LETTER 13
Pedro to Angelo
Angelo-You remember my informing you of the young and lovely daughter of the Marquis of Mezzia having been forced to take the veil in our neighbouring Ursuline Convent. It now appears this beautiful creature has become a sacrifice to the pride of the family; its revenue being comparatively beggarly, no fortune could be given with her in marriage, so there was no choice. Either the brother must have been reduced to the necessity of seeking a support by some profession (or other means equally disgusting to the pride of the old Marquis), or this young innocent must be sacrificed. I need not explain to you, who was so long the confessor of the late Marquis, the poverty and pride of both him and young Mezzia. Paternal feeling or any other social tie which should have protected and supported the beauteous flower, all sank before the imaginary stain that might be inflicted on the honour of the house by curtailing the means of one of its descendants. This quickly decided the proud, unfeeling father and cruel brother, so at the age of seventeen, all her young beauties just ripening into perfection, was the almost broken-hearted Julia Mezzia forced to utter oaths her heart abhorred, devoting her voluptuous charms to the service of religioncharms, Angelina, only fit for the service of vigorous man.
As I before gave you the full particulars of the distressing ceremony, I need not revert to it. But although beauty may be strictly confined by walls and bars, nature will still assume its mighty empire. This lovely virgin has been caught in an attempt to escape from the horrors of a cell for life. She was taken in the act of descending the wall, being betrayed by a sister of the convent, to whom in youthful confidence she had imparted her design. The penalty is death, unless mercy can be purchased for her; but such means as is necessary I do not think the Mezzia family can command, and if they could I shall take care with his Holiness that it has no effect.
You see, Angelo, this blushing rose must be mine. She will be shortly brought to her trial and condemned by the abbess to be buried alive. A report will then be forwarded to the grand vicar, who will procure his
Holiness's fiat. It will be my duty to prevent any petitions in her favour being heard. Fare thee well! you will soon hear of my success.
Pedro, Abbot of St Francis
LETTER 14
Pedro to Angelo
She is mine, soul and body mine. I have the delicious angel safe in my secret apartments in the convent, where uncontrolled I revel and feed upon her thrilling beauties. She came to my fierce embrace a blushing, timid maid. Oh, Angelo, how delicious were the moments spent in unravelling the Gordian knot of her coy chastity! How sweet to the ear was the soft cry that announced the expiration of her virginity. Angelo (believe me when I write it), the very moment I saw the parlour grating close upon the lovely Mezzia on the afternoon she received the veil, a prophetic spirit whispered in mine ear, ‘She is mine.' She is mine-only mine-wholly mine. Nearly the whole of last night was I voluptuously encircled by her wary limbs, her young budding breasts rapturously beating against my manly bosom, her glowing cheek fondly pressed to mine, and only removed to resign her balmy lips to my burning kisses.
Night of exquisite rapture! May it never be weakened in the tablet of memory! As I predicted, Angelo, for her attempt to escape from the convent, the austere Abbess of St Ursuline immediately called a chapter to try this lovely disgrace to our holy religion. Her friends were notified of her infamous attempt, and in due time the trial took place, in the presence of her father, brother and friends. Sister Sophia, the nun in whom my young pupil had misplaced her confidence, was the principal evidence against her. It appears before she was excluded from the world an attachment had subsisted between her and a young nobleman, whose name was the only thing Julia had not acquainted Sister Sophia with. As he luckily escaped in the confusion of securing Julia, he has nothing to fear. The poor girl had no defence. The detection was too public. What she urged in mitigation of her fault not only incensed the abbess more and more against her, but absolutely caused her father and brother to deny and abandon her to her fate altogether.