“Oh! who can speak what all can feel!”
“Oh! who can speak what all can feel!”
“Oh! who can speak what all can feel!”
“Oh! who can speak what all can feel!”
Juliaand Frances, during the straying and waiting which ensued, happened to wander into a path which separated them from the rest of the young people.
“Do you know, Julia,” said Frances, “that I have become of late a great judge of love?”
“And pray how has that happened?” asked Julia, trying to laugh.
“Why, it is in consequence of all those new lovers that you and I have had of late. I now understand the business perfectly. I knowtheir ways of looking, and their ways of sighing, and their ways of lowering the voice.—There is no describing it, you know; but, in short, I now understand it perfectly.”
“You will, at this rate, become quite a dangerous member of society,” rejoined Julia, with another effort to laugh.
“What a novice I must have been but a few days since,” continued Frances, “to have been so taken in as I was by that business between Edmund and Lady Susan. Why, he no more loves her (nor ever did,) than I do that stick, Sir Philip!—That she loves him, indeed, I have no doubt.”
Julia’s heart beat so fast, that she made several attempts before she could articulate the following words: “Then why did he wish her ladyship to marry him?”
“That is what puzzles me,” replied Frances,“I think there must have been something strange in the business; Lady Susan did say a good deal about his being so modest in consequence of his want of rank, that she feared she had been obliged to meet him more than half way.”
“But why meet her any part of the way, if he did not wish it?” said Julia.
“He might, you know, have been dazzled by the great advantages of such a marriage,” replied Frances. “Or been induced by her ladyship’s evident preference to mistake his own feelings. But, however that may have been, of two things I am now certain: the one, that he does not love Lady Susan; the other, that he does love you.” She paused, but Julia made no reply. “Yes, Julia,” Frances continued, “I am convinced that he loves you in the most extravagant, the most passionate, themost enthusiastic manner! Oh, it is so plain to be seen in every thing!”
Julia was still silent; but she pressed her sister’s hand, involuntarily, as if thanking her for the joyful emotions her words were exciting. “In short,” continued Frances, “he loves you with my love and the Marquis’s put together, if you can imagine what sort of a love that would make. And I am sure he is breaking his heart because he knows papa will never consent to your marrying him. I wish,” she added, “he did love Lady Susan—don’t you, Julia?” Julia made no immediate reply. “I say, Julia,” repeated Frances, “don’t you wish it was Lady Susan that Edmund loved?”
“Why no—don’t you think it would be very unamiable of him to love a stranger better than those he has always loved, ever since they were children?”
“Unamiable?—Oh, I don’t know,” said Frances; “but I am sure that loving you will make him very unhappy!”
“Why?”
“Oh, you know, because papa will never allow you to marry him.”
“But—but can’t—can’t we always have a great regard for each other without—without marrying?” asked Julia.
“Oh, a regard, yes,” said Frances, “but I think that poor Edmund would be much happier, if he loved Lady Susan, and were married to her, than he will be loving you, and going to sea, and you marrying the Marquis, or some such person.”
“That I will never do!” said Julia, with sudden energy.
At this moment Edmund appeared coming towards them. Julia hastily put up her parasol,though the walk was perfectly shady. The parasol entangled in every branch, and she as hastily took it down again.
Edmund now joined them, and offered an arm to each. Colonel Morven, however, whom they soon encountered, interrupted this arrangement, declaring that the walks were too narrow for three, and requesting Frances to take his arm. Thus they proceeded, with the rest of the party, towards the rock conservatory.
Julia was unusually silent, but there was something in her manner more dangerous, if possible, than ever to Edmund’s right resolves. So true is it, that nothing can pass in the minds of those we love, without our knowing, at least, that there is something passing. And of what nature that something was, seemed in the present instance to be recognised, for he, too, became silent, yet, during that silence, both felta conviction of each other’s affection, stronger perhaps than any they had before known.
How often, how very often, when distance, both of time and place intervened, was the impression received during that, to both, for ever memorable day remembered, and attempted to be renewed, severally, by both; how often inwardly appealed to! How often called upon to contradict proofs, to bear down facts! But the misery of this species of evidence is, that though at the moment the most entirely convincing, it fades in absence to a mere dream of the imagination; and while, with strange inconsistency, we find the greatest aggravation of our suffering, in the fear that we never did possess that of which we are thus lamenting the loss, we still do lament, and with the bitter feelings of those entitled to complain, that they have been bereft of all!
A pretty general meeting of stray couples now took place in the conservatory, and many were the observations made on our hero’s perilouscouche. After viewing various other beauties of the place, our party, at length, agreed that it was time to proceed to Arandale, which they reached without further adventure.
Their arrival was soon followed by that of the Marquis of H⸺, and such other guests as were not of the immediate family circle.
… “In vain the sun hath set:Light, his glorious attribute, remains,And, in sportive triumph, takes ten thousandShapes.”“The enchanter’s thunders roll afar, subside—Now roll again, and murmur o’er the wave.”
… “In vain the sun hath set:Light, his glorious attribute, remains,And, in sportive triumph, takes ten thousandShapes.”“The enchanter’s thunders roll afar, subside—Now roll again, and murmur o’er the wave.”
… “In vain the sun hath set:Light, his glorious attribute, remains,And, in sportive triumph, takes ten thousandShapes.”
… “In vain the sun hath set:
Light, his glorious attribute, remains,
And, in sportive triumph, takes ten thousand
Shapes.”
“The enchanter’s thunders roll afar, subside—Now roll again, and murmur o’er the wave.”
“The enchanter’s thunders roll afar, subside—
Now roll again, and murmur o’er the wave.”
Thegala of the evening was to commence as soon as dusk, with illuminations, fireworks, and various entertainments out of doors, and to conclude with a masked ball, and unmasked supper within the Castle.
The woods, as far as the eye could reach on either side of the grand approach, and also in the vicinity of the walks leading to the lakeand to Lady Susan’s cottage were festooned with coloured lamps, and, at an early hour, filled with groups of company. Lady Susan’s cottage itself was illuminated in a simple style; while, to the great delight of the peasantry and tenantry, who were permitted to peep in at the window, her ladyship, dressed in a rustic garb of stuff, with ribbon tucks, sat by a bright fire spinning with great industry. The trees were purposely left without lamps to a certain distance round, and at the back of the little thatched building, which, with its one window lit up as if to contribute its humble mite to the great public rejoicings, and its open door emitting a stream of firelight, had a singularly picturesque appearance.
Julia, supported by Edmund on one side and the Marquis of H⸺ on the other; andFrances by Colonel Morven and Sir Philip Barton Jones, moved, with a crowd of others, towards the lake, where wonders awaited the curious spectator. The trees which surrounded, and even dipped their branches into this fine sheet of water, were thickly and beautifully hung with coloured lamps, which, reflected in seemingly unfathomable depths, shone like the stars of an inverted sky. The long, light iron bridge which crossed a narrow arm of the lake was also illuminated with much taste and variety. On this our party, with a number of the select company, took up their position: the situation being elevated, and commanding, therefore, a good view of all that was to be seen.
The Earl had contrived a more animated representation of the engagement, of which this fête was to celebrate the anniversary, thancould have been produced by the hackneyed mode of transparencies.
He had had a number of pleasure boats fitted up and rigged exactly as men of war, with their sides artificially raised, to admit of their seeming to have one, two, or three tier of guns, according to their ratings. Of these, two hostile fleets now appeared on the lake, manœuvring not far from each other. The admirals, on both sides, exhibiting their three stern lights, signalizing their respective squadrons; and, from time to time, turning their broadsides in full view, lowering their mimic ports, which were lighted up within, and making thus an ostentatious display of their triple row of guns. Edmund absolutely laughed like a child at the pompous airs they assumed so well.
“Capital! capital!” he exclaimed. Arthur, who stood near him, was delighted. Manywere the questions put by the ladies to Captain Montgomery. He explained every movement as well as he could for laughing: but to him, who was accustomed to wield the fearful engines of real destructive warfare thus imitated, the proud airs of those little vessels were irresistibly amusing. While to Julia, and all such as had never seen any thing greater, the representation was growing quite imposing. Indeed, the longer it was gazed upon, the better became the deception; for the imagination and the eye both began to allow distance for the deficiency in size, and, as the engagement seemed about to commence, the whole moving scene assumed much of reality and consequence.
Henry, too, as a naval character, had become the oracle of another circle of ladies at a little distance; for, on the present occasion, he didnot feel much inclined to place himself in immediate comparison with our hero.
Now a few signal-guns were fired: this was followed by a pause, almost awful: when a brisk cannonade commenced along the line of battle, on both sides. One English frigate, in particular, made herself very conspicuous. But Edmund’s power of giving information seemed suddenly quite exhausted; or he was so much engaged pointing out Admiral Lord Fitz-Ullin’s vessel, and explaining his signals, and what had been from the first his intentions, that he was quite deaf to all questions respecting the frigate. What would have become of the unsatisfied and increasing curiosity of the ladies, it would have been difficult to say, had not an elderly gentleman in naval uniform informed them, that the remarkably situated vessel which had drawn somuch of their attention, and which might well be termed the heroine of the day, was the Euphrasia, commanded by Captain Montgomery. He then proceeded to eulogize the gallantry, general character, and even the private virtues of the said captain.
“You, sir,” he added, addressing Edmund, “who seem so well acquainted with Lord Fitz-Ullin and his plans; you must have met with Captain Montgomery, I should think? There is not a man in the service whom Fitz-Ullin values more, or rather perhaps, I should say, so much.” Edmund, no longer able to feign attention to other subjects, bowed, and smiled, at the same time casting an appealing look around him, as much as to say, “Will no one release me out of this dilemma?” The stranger stared. The Marquis good naturedly interposed, and said, “I believe, sir, you havebeen all this time putting Captain Montgomery very much to the blush.”
“Have I then the honour of addressing Captain Montgomery?” said our naval friend, first bowing, then adding, “allow me, sir,” he shook Edmund most cordially by the hand.
Julia’s enthusiastic heart glowed while it palpitated. How insignificant now appeared inherited titles, when compared with the exalted name Edmund had obtained for himself! How dimly now shone, mere, reflected hereditary splendour, unsustained by great actions on the part of the individual himself, when compared with the inherent, self-existent glory of the founder of nobility! She could not love Edmund better; but henceforward, instead of being afraid and ashamed of her feelings, she would be proud of her preference for such a character! She was sure she should now have courageto own it to her father. Then, a sudden thought of the dangers attendant on so brilliant a career; dangers which, at the moment, seemed passing in review before her eyes; dangers which might, on any day or hour again recur, struck a panic to her heart, and occasioned an involuntary movement, which, had she not checked it instantly, would have been a gentle pressure of the arm on which she leaned.—Edmund started—suspended his breathing for some moments—and then relinquished, with a blush at his own folly, a presumptuous surmise which had crossed his mind. But he drew the arm that leaned on his closer to his side though so gradually, that there seemed no impertinence, scarcely intention in the act; or, rather, it might be supposed to have been induced by the necessity of taking some such precaution against the perpetually passing and re-passing crowd.
The fire of the mimic fleets was now slackening; the smoke clearing away, and the French vessels lowering their colours, amid the shouts of the delighted multitude. Some of the disabled ships of the enemy were now seen to drift to a certain distance from the rest of the fleet, where, instead of burning or blowing up, in the common mode, they immediately became the sources whence issued fireworks, curious, various, and brilliant in the extreme. During this beautiful exhibition, “Rule, Britannia!” was played in magnificent style on board the English fleet: the Earl having placed, for that purpose, one of his favourite musicians in each mimic vessel, so that the little fleet might thus form a complete band. When the harmonies on the water died away, they were answered by “God save the King!” from another band of equally excellent performers,who were concealed among the woods, at the distance best calculated for effect. At these sounds, such of the company as were of a rank to be indoor guests, returned to the Castle; while the remaining crowd were entertained in lit up tents, in which confidential servants presided: some personating prize agents, and distributing, not only refreshments to the people, but the Earl’s bounty, under the name of prize money. This latter immunity, however, was extended only to such as had wit enough to humour the sports of the evening, by assuming the characters of sailors, or sailors’ wives; for it was Lord Arandale’s object to add as much as was in his power to the well merited popularity of a service, so vitally essential to the glory, and very being of the nation.
… “Some sportAmid the waves, like monsters of the deep,And some, among the foliage of the groves.”
… “Some sportAmid the waves, like monsters of the deep,And some, among the foliage of the groves.”
… “Some sportAmid the waves, like monsters of the deep,And some, among the foliage of the groves.”
… “Some sport
Amid the waves, like monsters of the deep,
And some, among the foliage of the groves.”
Allnow assumed their fancy dresses. Julia, Frances, and the four Misses Morven, were, by Lord Arandale’s wish, habited as sea-nymphs.
The principal covering consisted of a long clinging robe of a bright green. Around the bust was wrapped white gauze, of the slightest texture; its folds so arranged, as to resemble, as much as possible, the crested foam of ocean; from which, the head, neck, and arms, seemed, as it were, emerging; while a part ofthe same drapery fell over one shoulder, and floated loosely behind the figure, like the line of light on divided waters. Through various parts of the dress was twisted bright scarlet coral, intermingled with tufts of sea-weeds, bound together by clusters of the most brilliant emeralds, seemingly unset, and mixed with small shells, to give their grouping a natural appearance; while over all were scattered costly pearls, innumerable, neither strung nor set. The feet and ankles, in particular, were entirely encrusted with ornaments of this mixed description, as if the accumulation had been collected, by treading the rocks and caverns of the fathomless deep, among Neptune’s hidden treasures.
The very long fair hair of the sisters, worn quite loose, was peculiarly becoming to this costume. It hung around in a shower ofbrightness, as though sunbeams were gilding the light spray with which, sportive movements through the watery element, thus partially covered, as with a sparkling yet transparent veil, each lovely vision. This group did not wear masks; as they were to assist in receiving the company.
A small ante-room, the first of the suite thrown open on the present occasion, was fitted up to represent a cave. Before its entrance lay irregular masses of rock, on which were seated some of the Misses Morven, in their sea-nymph attire, combing their dishevelled locks with branches of coral, and singing the while, like the Syrens of old; till, on the approach of guests, they would dart off with looks of well feigned wildness, into the mouth of the cave; serving thus by their mockery of flight, as guides to the company. The interiorof the cave was decorated with coral, growing out of the crevices of the rock, and budding with precious stones; slender sea-plants gracefully pendant from each projecting point; every variety of magnificent shell, from some of which seemed to proceed strains of the wildest music, like the notes of Eolian harps; whilst others sent forth sounds, resembling the rushing of mighty waters. Under foot shone golden sands, promiscuously strewn with pearls and variegated pebbles; while fragments of spar and many-sided crystal, containing concealed lamps, being the only visible sources of light, gave to the whole a magical effect. Here, in picturesque attitudes, reclining on couches of feathery and rainbow tinted seaweed, appeared the principal figures of the group. They too were singing, but in sweeter strains than those without, and in harmonywith the thrilling breathings, still proceeding from the shells.
On the entrance of the guests, led in by the flying Misses Morven, the recumbent nymphs, gracefully moving their arms in time to the soft music, by looks and gestures indicated the way through each recess of the cave to an outlet at its further extremity, which led into the next reception room.
The advancing company now found themselves in a seeming grove of fine old oaks, the stems of which were entwined, and the branches festooned with laurel. Triumphal wreaths of the latter material were also borne aloft in the joyous dance by a group of wood-nymphs, wearing on their heads, crowns, and over their shoulders, garlands of roses, with which were intermingled leaves, both from the forest tree and its triumphal wreathings; signifying,that if we would have the gentler blossoms of our gardens flourish, the oak and the laurel must be cultivated.
All who entered the grove in naval uniform, were conducted by two of the nymphs to an open space among the trees; where Lady Susan, in the character of Britannia, was seated on a beautiful throne, curiously carved in marble to represent the white cliffs of Albion; canopied by oaks, and sheltered, on either side, by a luxuriant growth of laurel; the steps of the throne, subject waves spell bound to the stillness of stone, by the presence of their awful mistress; while on one of them stood Triton, with his conch at his lips, in the attitude of awaiting command. The rich harmonies of “Rule, Britannia!” meantime filled the air every where; as though the old oaks themselves had been the performers; for, while the deeper tonesseemed to come mellowed from within the imprisonment of their knotted trunks, the softer ones were heard whispering at large among the waving of their lofty tops.
Each claimant being led to the feet of Britannia, she took a laurel wreath from the hands of her attendant nymphs, and, with a gracious smile, (a triumphal flourish from the conch of Triton at the same moment proclaiming the act,) placed it on the brows of the hero.
In the great room appeared a motley crowd in the costumes of all the nations under heaven; so that, on first entering, a traveller’s eye would have been reminded of the great mart at Gibraltar.
Lord Arandale had requested that all officers should wear uniform; Edmund could not, therefore, without incurring the charge of affectation, avoid compliance.
Habited, accordingly, in his full dress, or roast beef coat, and (for things could not be done by halves) decorated with every star and garter he had ever won, he made his appearance in the marine cave. But, having fatally neglected the precaution taken by the wise Ulysses against the voices of Syrens, he found it quite impossible to proceed further; and, indeed, seemed to be so much at home among the sea-nymphs, that landsmen, as they passed, were induced to make many witty comments, vowing they would never again compassionate sailors, on the score of their privations.
They had heard, indeed, of mermaids, and read of Syrens; but, as the former were proverbial for a very uninteresting peculiarity of form, and the latter were called, by Johnson, sea-monsters, they had no idea that the rocksand caves of old ocean were inhabited by such water angels as those they now beheld.
Lady Morven appeared as a Sultana, dressed in all that could be devised of magnificence. Having some taste, her ladyship made many deviations from the hackneyed costume—wearing one, the groundwork of which, instead of being of the strong and unbecoming colours generally adopted, was of white satin; though that pure fabric was nearly covered with rich highly raised embroidery of the most brilliant hues, mixed with gold. Both tunic and petticoat were deeply bordered and fringed with gold, and the latter adorned with peculiar richness up the front, where the opening of the former displayed it to great advantage. The trowser and open hanging sleeve were of course not forgotten, while the numberless claspings, fastenings, and loopings, bracelets and armlets, with the superb zone and stomacher, necklace and crescent, all of jewels, chiefly brilliants,brought together such a concentration of dazzling rays, that, when over all was flung a veil of a material so transparent that nothing of it could be seen but the beautiful miniature flowers, embroidered in gold and bright colours, with which it was sprinkled; those flowers, as the moving of the invisible drapery caused them to float around, seemed so many painted and glittering butterflies, following and fluttering in the blaze of light emitted by so much splendour. The bird of paradise too, worn in front of the turban, and sustained by the crescent of jewels, was thus so severed by their lustre from all that seemed tangible, that he appeared hovering above the bright vision, as doubtful where to alight. Her ladyship leaned on the arm of Mr. Graham, who had assumed the dress of a Sultan, on being assured that it would not be required of him to do any thing but loll on an ottoman.
Next appeared a group consisting of an oldblind man, selling matches, and led by a dog—an excellent figure; a little girl, driving a wheelbarrow of apples, and calling them vociferously; and a middle-aged woman, crying the last dying speech of the latest executed murderer. Now a group of Circassian slaves; now a number of naval officers, arm and arm; now many curious groups of wandering musicians, ballad singers, and pedlars of various countries. Herds of foreign peasants; then came Turks, Jews, May-morning dancers; these last, children; their queen, a lovely little creature, leading a lamb by a wreath of roses, while the gaily decorated pole, with its many garlands, showered the fragrance of fresh flowers wherever it passed; then a group of archers of the Royal Edinburgh Society. In short, enumeration would be endless. Next appeared a set of gypsies, one of the figures very good—an old man with grey hair, and bent double, leading an excellent imitation ofa small donkey, animated within by a little boy, and bearing on the centre of the sack, which was thrown across its back, an infant in wax, seemingly just able to sit in a little heap, by help of the old cloak, drawn tight about it; the deception complete. This group took the liberty of making a halt for a short time in the grove, where, under one of the old trees, they pitched a tent, and from a projecting branch of another, at a little distance, suspended a kettle, under which they set fire to some exquisite perfumes, in the form of faggots; while one of the youngest and prettiest of their party sat on the ground, blowing the embers to a flame, without other means than her own rosy lips; till, smoke and all, the gipsey encampment formed a very picturesque object.
Among the gipsies were some amusing fortune-tellers, but these latter were all thrown into shade by the striking figure of an Indianjuggler, who came in soon after, quite alone. He was tall, and dressed in long loose black robes. Instead of passing on, he paused before the party in the cave, waved his wand, and looked fixedly at them. His countenance was covered by a peculiarly hideous black mask, through which his eyes flashed with a supernatural ferocity, assisted by fiery regions of stained crystal around the apertures. He made signs that he was dumb, but that he wished to show Julia her fortune, and immediately passing his wand between her and Edmund, waved to all to make a clear space; then drawing a circle round Julia, pointed to it and to Edmund, stamped with his foot, and seemed to forbid his passing the magic boundary. Edmund made several laughing attempts to enter the circle, but the juggler as often interposed his wand and stamped again. The juggler next taking Henry by the arm, placed him beside Julia within the circle.“So, I am to be the happy man, it seems!” said Henry, carelessly taking the hand of his cousin. She appeared not to like the jest, and hastily endeavoured to withdraw her hand, but he held it fast, giving her a glance which made her tremble. The juggler now displayed a ring, which he gave to Henry, who placed it on Julia’s finger so suddenly, that she was not aware what he was about to do, and said, “This is my wife.” At the same moment, the words, “This is my husband,” proceeded, or seemed to proceed from the lips of Julia, in a voice loud and distinct, though unlike that in which she usually spoke. “No! no! no!” she cried instantly, in her own voice, flinging off the ring, and darting out of the circle.
“Yes! yes! yes!” said a voice from beneath the ground on which they stood. “Yes! yes! yes!” repeated voices from within the rocks on every side, successively, and finally fromabove their heads, till the last sound seemed lost in distance. The juggler, the while, pointing with his wand, now here, now there, still indicating the spot whence the voice seemed to proceed.
“Was it not you then that said, this is my husband?” enquired two or three of the young ladies, turning to Julia. “Nonsense! nonsense!” she exclaimed pettishly.
“The fellow is a ventriloquist,” said Edmund aside to the inquisitive Misses Morven, who seemed never to have heard one before. At the same time, approaching our heroine, he offered her his arm, for she seemed to need support, and he felt, too, secretly delighted by the visible antipathy to the idea of a union with Henry, even in jest, evinced by the countenance and involuntary movements of Julia. Henry, however, drew her other hand over his arm, without even asking her permission.
“Well, Julia!” he said, laughing, “thankheaven, we are married at last, and publicly enough this time,” he added, pretending to lower his voice. “Remember,” he proceeded, again raising it, and again affecting to laugh, “you can never be off, in Scotland, after saying before two witnesses, the awful words—This is my husband!”
“As I never did, however, nor ever shall say so,” commenced Julia. Henry interrupted our heroine, by observing carelessly, “that reminds me of the lady in the play, who swears to her father, never to marry her lover, after she is married to him already.”
This remark, though made with the greatest levity, shocked Edmund more than he was willing to confess, even to himself; not that, at the time, he believed it to allude to any thing more than the folly which had just passed.
“How very funny! how very funny!” said several of the young ladies. “Those sort ofjokes are very disagreeable, I think,” said Julia. “Oh, you don’t think it a subject for jesting upon?” observed Henry, not at all disconcerted. “Nor do I, Julia, believe me!” he added, again affecting to lower his voice.
“The part of the juggler is certainly very well sustained,” remarked Frances. “Yes, very well indeed,” said Julia, bowing to the juggler. “The company seem to be almost collected,” she added, “so I think we may now go to the great room, and commence dancing.”
Henry, thinking he had now sufficiently plagued Julia, dropped her arm, and offered his services to two of the Misses Morven. Edmund could not resist the opportunity of turning to our heroine, and saying, in a whisper—“for heaven’s sake, Julia, what does Henry mean?” “He thinks his absurdity wit, I suppose,” she replied, without hesitation. Edmund, at the moment, felt re-assured,by the ready frankness of her manner, though long after, and when new circumstances had arisen, he remembered that the words of her reply were, certainly, very evasive. One of the Misses Morven begged to have her fortune told. The juggler drew the magic circle around her, and then, with his arms folded, stood motionless. The unclaimed damsel looked round to see who was to be her companion. The juggler waved his wand, as though interdicting the approach of any intruder. The spectators began to laugh; and the young lady got out of her solitary sphere, declaring that fortune-telling was a very dull amusement.
“He seems to beckon thee to his cave.”
“He seems to beckon thee to his cave.”
“He seems to beckon thee to his cave.”
“He seems to beckon thee to his cave.”
Ourgroup at length entered the great room, where their appearance created a very general sensation, notwithstanding the immense circle already formed round a character, which, previous to their entrance, had been the centre of attraction. They could not penetrate near enough to the inner part of the ring to see what was going on; but were told by a gentleman, who was politely resigning his own place to put our heroine a step nearer promotion, that the character so surrounded was certainly the best which had yet appeared; and that, though unmasked, no one could make him out. “It would have been a thousand pities,” addedGeneral Morven, whom they now encountered, “had he worn a mask; for the countenance is the best half of the jest, he looks so completely in earnest!” “And so truly anxious to commend and sell his goods,” said our first informant, who seemed to be a friend of the General’s, for they shook hands, and Generaled and Admiraled each other.
“And treats every one,” rejoined the General, “so exactly with the degree of respect which their assumed character claims.”
“The look he gave the woman selling the last dying speech, would immortalize a new Garrick!” said the General. “In short the whole thing is the most complete piece of acting I ever saw! His expression too of disappointment and astonishment is so good, when people, after looking at and pricing things, walk off without buying.”
Julia and Frances, each leaning on an arm of Edmund, had by this time, with the assistanceof the General and his friend, got almost to the front of the circle; whence, who should they behold standing in the centre, little thinking he was at a masquerade, and striving heart and soul to sell his fine things, but our old acquaintance Gotterimo. He was making his best bows to Lady Morven, who, in the blaze of jewels we have already described, was seated with her Sultan on a splendid ottoman. Ere, however, we proceed to relate what immediately followed, we must account for our poor little friend being found in such good company.
Having on his return to town, made some discoveries respecting the valuables pawned by the famous swindler, which, from the great interest evinced by Mrs. Montgomery in the mosaics, he thought might be of consequence to a family that had so greatly befriended him, he determined to make his next travelling speculation, attendance on the Ayrshire race meeting, and at its conclusion to proceed to LordArandale’s castle, and give his lordship the important information. Various accidents so delayed our little traveller on the cross road, that he did not arrive at Arandale till many hours later than he intended. When he came to the lodge gates, he found them all open, and the grounds, as he proceeded, covered with lights, merry groups, &c. &c. “Dis be von fair,” thought Gotterimo; and he debated with himself, whether he should not take the opportunity of doing a little business; but, on second thoughts, he decided that an out of door fair held by torch-light, was no place to expose for sale such valuable articles as those of which his stock consisted. He continued his way, therefore, towards the Castle. This he found also lit up; while beneath its illuminated colonnade, ascending its steps, and entering its open portals, he observed a motley crowd, many of whom, as the seller of matches, were of much lower degree than himself. Hecould, therefore, feel no scruples in entering. He saw also, in the first hall, many who appeared prepared to turn a penny as well as himself; for some had packs on their backs, some baskets in their hands with perfumery, pastry, pamphlets, newspapers, &c. He also saw as many, or more persons, whose appearance justified the hope of their making costly purchases. “Dis be de place for me!” thought Gotterimo. The crowd in the hall were moving onward, and he moved with them. “I vill just go fere I see de odder tradge-peoples go,” he thought. He observed each person, as they passed a respectable looking man in black at the foot of the stairs, present a card. This appeared to him a very regular and business-like proceeding. He determined, therefore, to do the like; and taking out one of his own cards, indicating the articles he had for sale, and the street and number of his shop in Bath, he handed it to the butler, who stoodreceiving, almost at the same moment, so many tickets, that the nature of Gotterimo’s deposit was unnoticed.
He now ascended the great stairs without further obstacle, admiring as he went the magnificent carpets, which were spread beneath his feet on every step; the rich candelabras, which were held aloft by statues of bronze on every landing; and the splendid gold-laced liveries of the servants, who, everywhere, pointed the way, (gold in any shape, was never lost on Gotterimo). He passed through the cave, at a time when it was so much crowded, that he was not observed by his friends, the sea-nymphs; nor did he see them, so entirely was his attention absorbed, examining the pearls that lay scattered beneath his feet, to ascertain if any of them were real. Finding them however to be but imitation, he passed on through the grove to the great room. Here his ears were at once assailed with “Oystairs! Oystairs!”“Who’ll buy my primroses?” “Horrible and unnatural murder!—most cruel murder!” “Ripe strawberries! Ripe strawberries!” “Large apples! Large apples! Large apples!” And now a light wheelbarrow, impelled forward with the speed of a velocipede, by as light a little girl, ran up against him and almost upset itself, by driving over his feet. Flower girls courtesied as they passed, offering for sale bunches of roses. “You be var civil, my pretty dears,” said Gotterimo, “but I no give no money for such foolish tings.”
A richly dressed group now came in view; and Gotterimo thought he might have done “de great deal of business,” if it had not been for the ungenerous interference of a noisy, obtrusive, gentleman’s hair-dresser, while he offered for sale rouge, stays accommodated to the shape, lip-salveà la rose, Sicilian bloom, whiskers, eyebrows, moustache, and ⸺’s invaluable solution for rendering red or grey hair a beautiful black, displaying for the benefitof single gentlemen, a long list of the names of rich widows and great heiresses, &c.
Soon after this, it was, that our party, having as we have described, pressed their way through the surrounding crowd, first discovered, in the object of general curiosity, their little friend Gotterimo. He was, at the moment, as we have stated, making all his best bows to Lady Morven and Mr. Graham, the splendour of whose appearance had filled his bosom with hopes almost as dazzling as the constellation before which he worshipped. Lord Arandale now joining the group, a grand denouement took place. After much ado, the poor little intruder was got to comprehend, in some degree, his situation; at least to know that all the mob which surrounded him, consisted of ladies and gentlemen; though, why many of them should choose to appear so little like such, might not, perhaps, come quite within the scope of his comprehension.
Gotterimo’s motives for visiting Arandalehaving been, in the first few moments, explained to the Earl, his lordship, with his good-natured smile, whispered about among his friends, the true quality of the supposed well sustained character. The buzz went round; and Gotterimo, on his progress through the rooms, to make his exit, was so often intercepted by such as wished either to oblige their noble host, or reward the little man for the amusement he had afforded themselves, that our friend’s boxes were quickly cleared of all their contents, and at prices highly satisfactory to the vendor; who, on perceiving that he obtained whatever he demanded, not from the ignorance but from the whim of the purchasers, began to think it no great sin to raise the market a little.
Immediately after the interruption occasioned by Gotterimo’s adventures, our sea-nymphs and wood-nymphs, led by Britannia herself, formed for a peculiar dance, the planof which had been previously arranged. The figure was to take in the whole of the united group; and, on a signal given by the music, the young lady’s respective partners, in whatever disguise, were to join them as they stood in their places. Young Lord K⸺ approached Lady Susan. Sir Philip flew to the side of Frances. Henry took his place near one of the Misses Morven. Lord Morven, Colonel Morven, &c. filled up the party, till Julia alone stood unclaimed, and, at the same time, importunately beset for alms by the old blind man who sold matches. He was bent double. A profusion of white hair fell around his patched and ragged shoulders. He held in one hand his hat, crutch, and the string by which his dog was fastened, while his other hand was stretched forth with a beseeching palm, and, in the piteous and tremulous accents of extreme age, he craved her ladyship’s compassion. At length, to humour the jest,she offered him a small donation. This the mendicant bent on one knee to receive, grasping, as he did so, and firmly retaining the hand that presented it in one of his, while, with the other, he flung off his disguises, and sprang to his feet the young and handsome Marquis of H⸺, unmasked, but dressed for Neptune, with a crown and trident, and splendid armour of gold and silver scales. The plaudits on the occasion were universal.
Edmund, who was thrown out by his absence from the breakfast table when the engagements for this dance were being formed, and who, consequently, was but a spectator, felt his arm touched from behind. He looked over his shoulder, and beheld the juggler, who, turning, made signs to him to follow; he did not, however, feel disposed to take the hint. The dumb fortune-teller pressed nearer, and said, in a low distinct whisper, “I am not what I seem: follow me, if you wish to know whoyou are!” These words aroused Edmund. He turned and immediately followed. “It must be some impertinent jest,” he said to himself, angry at his own credulity, “yet it is just possible that—that something, that some one connected with my strange history may—may have chosen——.” The dark figure meanwhile glided as rapidly through the dense crowd, as if there had been no obstacle to its free passage. It was with difficulty just kept in view by Edmund.
“Chief mixes his strokes with chief, and man with man;Steel, clanging, sounds on steel!”
“Chief mixes his strokes with chief, and man with man;Steel, clanging, sounds on steel!”
“Chief mixes his strokes with chief, and man with man;Steel, clanging, sounds on steel!”
“Chief mixes his strokes with chief, and man with man;
Steel, clanging, sounds on steel!”
Themysterious stranger, our hero still following, descended the great stairs, crossed the inner and entrance-halls, and went out at the great door; then, hurrying past the flaring flambeaux of the servants in attendance on waiting carriages, made for a thick grove at a considerable distance. Arrived at the grove the figure proceeded some way among the thickest of the trees. Edmund followed, for a time, in silence; at length he demanded, rather angrily, whither the fellow meant to lead him. The stranger made no reply, but continued his rapid pace towards the mostremote, and, by there appearing no lights in that direction, evidently the most unfrequented part of the grounds. “I will follow no further,” said Edmund, standing still, after a quick pursuit of some minutes. “If there is, indeed, any important communication which it is necessary should be made to me in private, we have been long since far enough removed from all possibility of being overheard.” The juggler stopped, and faced about. “Young man,” he said, “you may well believe that my business here this evening was not to play the idle mummery you have witnessed. Follow me, therefore!”
“If your business regards me, name it now, and here!” said Edmund. The stranger fixed his eyes on those of our hero, while, beneath his cloak, he grasped something which Edmund almost held out his hand to receive, so sure did he feel for the moment that it must be a packet of papers containing the informationhe so much desired to obtain. The stranger’s hand appeared to hesitate. The fellow spoke again, perhaps to gain time. “The daughter of Lord L⸺,” he said slowly, his eyes still fixed on Edmund, “must never be the wife of ⸺,” he paused, drew a step nearer, then recommenced, “hereafter you shall know, of whom; at this crisis there might be danger in the discovery.”
“I will know all this moment!” exclaimed Edmund, “else why have I been led here? I will not be trifled with, sir! If your words have any meaning, explain them! If they have none, and that you have dared to make my most sacred feelings the subject of an impertinent and indelicate jest, be assured that, whoever you may be, you shall answer to me for such conduct.” So saying, he seized a firm hold of the fellow’s cloak. The ruffian turned, with a sort of triumphant laugh, grasped Edmund’s right arm with his lefthand, while with his right he drew a sword from beneath his cloak, and made a thrust at our unprepared hero. Edmund, however, by a single fortunate effort, disengaged himself, evaded the first thrust, drew his sword, and intercepted the second. The villain made another and another stroke, each of which our hero parried with equal success; when, the now infuriated ruffian, with a sudden leap backward and bound forward, made a direct lunge at the breast of his intended victim; which, as our hero at the instant dexterously sprang aside, came with such force on the trunk of the tree, in front of which he had stood but the second before, that the sword of his ferocious assailant was shattered to the very hilt.
Edmund, now resting the point of his weapon on the ground, commanded the man, whom he considered in no condition to resist, being disarmed, to return with him to the Castle.For reply, the juggler drew a pistol from the belt beneath his cloak, and, thrusting it close to our hero’s face, fired! The steadiness of the ruffian’s hand must have been previously shaken by the force with which his sword had struck against the trunk of the tree; for the lighting charge shot perpendicularly upwards, like a sky-rocket. Throwing the pistol from him, and cursing it aloud, the villain drew out the second, levelled it better, and was in the act of pulling the trigger, when Edmund, by this time more on his guard, had the presence of mind to strike its muzzle aside with his sword. The balls flew through the trees, wide of the intended aim. The juggler stood a moment confounded, then eyed Edmund’s raised arm, as if meditating a dart at it, with the desperate purpose of possessing himself of the weapon it held. But the threatening position of the blade seemed to deter him, while, the noise of the shots having arrestedthe attention of the nearest group of merry-makers, their flambeaux were seen, by their quick movements, to express instant alarm, crossing and recrossing each other in great confusion. Then, they separated in every possible direction, resembling wandering meteors through the surrounding darkness; while each moving star was accompanied by a voice, crying, “Thieves! thieves! thieves!” as they evidently approached, guided by Edmund’s directing call, to the spot on which he stood.
The hitherto determined ruffian now turned and fled. Edmund pursued, and was at first so close behind him, that he again laid hold of the villain’s cloak, which, however, now yielded itself a too easy captive; while its owner darted round a thick clump of wood, and was seen no more. All who came up of course assisted in the pursuit or rather search, but in vain. From the moment the fugitive was first lost sight of, no one knew in what directionto seek him. Some suggested that he had most probably turned back, favoured by the shelter of the trees, and throwing off such of his disguises as might lead to a recognition of his person, joined the throng of his own pursuers. Indeed, the multitude of people on the grounds at the time was so great, that to have traced among them an unknown individual, and in the dark too, was a thing so totally out of the range of possibility, that the idea was soon given up. On the part of Edmund, certainly, with infinite regret, for he was very unwilling to resign the not irrational hope he had for a short time entertained of discovering something of his own mysterious fate; even by finding out who had an interest in his destruction. A very little reflection, however, served to convince him, that any further attempt at pursuit must be perfectly vain; for if the villain were even seized, how was he to be identified? no one had seen himunmasked, and the very proportions of his figure had been concealed by his juggler’s robes. Much disappointed, therefore, our hero bent his steps towards the Castle, which the alarm had not yet reached.