* * * * *Such was Cora's strange story, to which we all, myself included, listened with attention, though, sooth to say, I had heard it frequently before. Berkeley declared it to be "doocid good, but doocid queer."In another land I was yet to hear a story still more gloomy and improbable than this—a story to be related in its place, and in some points not unlike the legend of the clenched hand.While Cora had been rehearsing her gloomy story of the two ruined towers, my eyes had scarcely ever wandered from Louisa Loftus, who, with Miss Wilford and I, was seated in the same flirting, or tête-à-tête chair, and who, on this night, was in all the pride of her calm, pale, aristocratic beauty.She was in the zenith of her charms; her figure, finely rounded, was full—almost voluptuous; her features were remarkably expressive to be so regular; and her eyes and glorious hair were wondrously dark when contrasted with the pure whiteness of her skin.Seated under the brilliant crystal gaselier, the fine contour of her head, and the exquisite proportions of her bare shoulders and neck, on which a circlet of brilliants sparkled, were seen to perfection, and I felt bewildered while I watched her. Thus, I fear, Miss Wilford, in whose blue eyes a mischievous expression was twinkling, did not find me very entertaining company.Down that fair neck a long black ringlet wandered, as if to allure, and at times it almost touched, my hand. Intoxicated by her beauty and close vicinity, I determined to do something to express my passion, even if I should do it—miserable timidity and subterfuge—under cover of a jest—a mockery.Tremulously, between my fingers, unnoticed by others, I took the stray ringlet, and whispered in her ears—"A strange story, that of my cousin's, Lady Louisa.""And the lock of hair! such a terrible idea!" said she, shuddering, while her white shoulders and brilliants shone in the light together."Does it terrify you?""More than it gratifies me.""As the chances are that I may be killed and buried in the East, will—will you give methisto lie in the trenches with me?" said I, curling the soft ringlet round my finger, with mock gallantry, while my heart beat wildly with hope and expectation.She turned her dark, full eyes to mine, with an expression of mingled surprise and sweetness."Take itnow, Mr. Norcliff, for heaven's sake, rather than come for it, as William Calderwood came," said the sprightly Miss Wilford, taking a pair of scissors from a gueridon table that stood close by; and ere Lady Loftus could speak, the dark ringlet was cut off, and consigned to my pocket-book, while my lips trembled as I whispered my thanks, and laughingly said—"What says Pope?'The meeting points the sacred hair dissever,From the fair head for ever, and for ever.'""This is all very well, Mr. Norcliff," said she, laughing behind her fan; "but I cannot submit to be shorn in jest, and shall insist on having that lock of hair from you to-morrow."She had a lovely smile in her dark eyes, and a half-pout on her beautiful lip; but Cora—I know not why—looked on me sadly, and shook her pretty head with an air of warning, that seemed as much as to say I had erred in my gallantry, if not in my generalship.That night my heart beat happily; I went to sleep with that jetty tress beneath my pillow; thus, for me, Cousin Cora had not in vain told her quaint old legend of "The Clenched Hand."CHAPTER X.I loved—yes. Ah, let me tellThe fatal charms by which I fell!Her form the tam'risk's waving shoot,Her breast the cocoa's youngling fruit.Her eyes were jetty, jet her hair,O'ershadowing face like lotus fair;Her lips were rubies, guarding flowersOf jasmine, dimned with vernal showers.STONE TALK.The next day was to see a crisis in my fate which I could not have anticipated, combined with the narrow escape from mutilation or death of more than one of our pleasant party assembled at the Glen.With all the intensity of my soul, I wished to learn my chances of success with the brilliant Lady Louisa, yet trembled to make the essay.Why, or how was this?Timid and irresolute, fearing to know the best or the worst from the lips of a mere girl, I asked myself was it I—I, who, at the bombardment of Rangoon, at the storm of the Dagon Pagoda, and in the night attack on Frome, had feared neither the bullets nor poisoned arrows of the two-sworded barbarians whom it was our ill-luck to encounter in those tropical regions; I, who, without fear or flinching, was now ready to meet the Russians in Turkey, or anywhere else; was it I that could not muster hardihood to reveal the emotions, the honourable love, of an honest heart? It was; and, at times, I felt inclined to utter a malison on that which General Napier so truly and happily termed, "the cold shade of aristocracy;" for that it was which chilled and baffled me.In the drawing-room the first who met me was my Cousin Cora, looking pale, but bright-eyed, with her pure complexion, and in all her morning prettiness."Lady Loftus, I presume, has not appeared yet?" said I."It is always Lady Loftus with you, Cousin Newton," said she, pettishly, "though you came here to see papa and me. What have you done with that celebrated lock of hair? Put it in the fire, eh?""In the fire, Cora! It is here, in my pocket-book.""Doubtless you are very proud of it?""I cannot but be, Cora," said I, taking her hands in mine, and drawing her into the recess of an oriel window; "and she is herself so proud and reserved. I am sure that she knows what you have seen, Cora; at least, what my uncle says you have detected,—that—that——""What, Newton? How rambling and mysterious you are!""That I love her.""You are sure she knows this?" asked Cora."Yes, my dear cousin; it is impossible that the regard with which she has inspired me could fail to be known, seen, or felt by her—I mean that it must have been apparent to her, by a thousand mute indications, since we first met in England. It is so to you, is it not?""Ye—yes," replied Cora, with her face averted, for no doubt she was smiling at my earnest simplicity."Do you think she would tolerate attentions that were valueless, or would trifle with me?""I cannot say.""But you are her particular friend. Oh, Cora, be mine too!""What on earth do you mean?" asked Cora, showing me still only her pretty profile; "you cannot wishmeto propose to her for you?""No; but you hide your sweet face, Cora. You are laughing at me!""Oh, no, I am not laughing," replied Cora, in a rich, low tremulous voice. "Heaven knows, Newton, how far my thoughts are removed from laughter.""And—what is this, Cora dear? Your eyes are full of tears!""Are they?" she exclaimed angrily, as she withdrew her hands from mine."Yes—ah, I see it all," said I, bitterly; "you know Lady Louisa's heart better than I do, and deem my love for her a hopeless one.""It is not so," replied Cora, while her cheek flushed, and, though her long lashes drooped, an air of hauteur stole over her usually gentle and lovable bearing. "I know nothing of the matter. Search her heart for yourself; assist you I cannot; and what is more, Newton Norcliff," she added haughtily, "I will not!""Cora!" I exclaimed, with surprise; "but be it so. Myself then must be my own advocate, and if my love for Lady Louisa——"What I was about to add, or how I meant to finish the sentence, I know not, for at that moment she approached, with her calm, somewhat conventional, but beautiful smile, to kiss Cora, and present her hand to me. The rest of our party rapidly assembled.Had she heard thelastwords of my interrupted speech? I almost feared, or rather hoped, that she had."This, I find, is to be the day of another expedition, Mr. Norcliff," she observed."So it appears. We are to see the Fifeshire hounds throw off at Largo House; and afterwards we are to drive home by a circuit, through half the country, to let Lady Chillingham see the scenery.""In a January day!" drawled Berkeley. "Do we—aw—start before tiffin?""If by that you mean luncheon, I say after it, decidedly," said Lady Chillingham, in her cool, determined manner, which few—the earl, her husband, especially—could gainsay. "I have to write to my Lord Slubber and others.""Pardon me, my dear Lady Chillingham, but this arrangement is impossible," said my uncle; "we must leave this in time to see the hounds throw off.""And the hour, Sir Nigel?""Sharp twelve. Binns will take luncheon for us in the boot of the drag. Berkeley, you, I believe, are to don the pink, and ride with me. I shall cross the country to-night, but not in my official capacity, as I have not yet assumed all the duties appertaining to the honourable office of the master of the Fifeshire hounds. And now to breakfast. Lady Chillingham, permit me—your hand, and we shall lead the way.""When I do take the hunting of the country into my own care," resumed my uncle, "I shall show you as noble a pack as ever drew cover; ay, dogs as smart as ever had their tails running after them, even before cub-hunting begins next season; and so compactly shall they go, that a tablecloth might cover them all when in full cry.""By that time, uncle, I shall be testing the mettle of the Russian cavalry; but my heart will be with you all here in Calderwood Glen."Lady Louisa's eyes were upon me as I said this; their expression was unfathomable, so I was fain to construe it into something sympathetic or of interest in my fate.The day was clear and beautiful; the air serene, though cold, and the swelling outlines of the green and verdant hills were sharply defined against the blue of the sky, where a few fleecy clouds were floating on the west wind.Our party lost no time in preparing for the expedition of the day, and, ere long, the vehicles, the horses, and even the ladies, were all in marching order. I had too much tact to attempt to engross Lady Loftus at the beginning of the day; but resolved, as she was to be with "mamma" in the drag, to become one of its occupants when returning home, if I could achieve nothing better.My man Pitblado, and other grooms, brought forth the saddled horses, and my uncle appeared in a red hunting-coat, boots and tops, with whip and cap complete, his cheek glowing with health and pleasure, and his eyes sparkling as if he were again sixteen."By the way, Newton," said he, slapping his boot-tops, "that lancer fellow of yours——""Willie Pitblado, my servant?""Yes, well, he has tumbled Lady Chillingham's French soubrette about, as if he had known her from infancy; and what suits the meridian of Maidstone barracks won't do at Calderwood Glen, so tell him. And now, Mr. Berkeley, here are Dunearn, Saline, and Splinter-bar. You can have your choice of cavalry; but shorten your stirrups. I always take the leathers up two holes for hunting.""Aw—haw, thanks," drawled this Dundreary (whose fashionable hunting suit, in cut and brilliancy of colour, quite eclipsed the well-worn costume of the jolly old baronet), as he proceeded leisurely to examine the bridle and girths, observing the while to me—"Louisa looks well this morning.""Louisa!" I repeated, with astonishment: "is it the mare—her name is Saline, so called from some hills in Fife—or whom on earth do you mean?""Why, Lady Loftus, to be sure.""And you speak of her thus freely or familiarly?""Ya—haw—yes.""By Jove, you surprise me!""By what, eh?""Your perfect assurance, to be plain with you, my friend.""Don't deem it such, my dear fellaw, though it is doocid dangerous when one comes to speak of so charming a girl by her Christian name; it shows how a fellaw thinks orfeels, and all that sort of thing; do you understand?""Not very clearly; but consider, Berkeley, what you are about, and don't make a deucid fool of yourself," said I, with undisguised anger."No danger of that; but—haw—surely you are not spooney in that quarter yourself? Eh—haw—if I thought so, curse me if I wouldn't draw stakes, and hedge. You know that I like you, Newton; and your old uncle, Sir Nigel, is a doocid good kind of fellaw—a trump, in fact," he added, while lightly vaulting into his saddle, and gathering up his reins, but eying me like a lynx, through his glass, as if to read my most secret thoughts.Disdaining to reply, I drew haughtily back."So-oh," said my uncle, who was now mounted. "I know that grey mare, Saline, well; so, Mr. Berkeley, by gently feeling her mouth, and grinding her up to the requisite pitch of speed, she'll soon leave the whole field behind her."Our party was numerous; including my uncle's guests, some thirty ladies and gentlemen were about to start from the Glen. We were well off in conveyances. There was the great old family carriage, cosily stuffed, easily hung, pannelled and escutcheoned, with rumble and hammercloth; there was a stately drag of a dark chocolate colour, with red wheels, and a glorious team of greys; a dashing waggonette and tandem, with two brilliant bays, that, in the shafts, were well worth three hundred pounds each; and there was a dainty little phaeton, in which the general was to drive Cora and Miss Wilford, drawn by two of the sleekest, roundest, and sauciest little ponies that ever came out of Ultima Thule.I was to drive the drag to the meet; and, after the hunt, Berkeley was to meet us at a certain point on the Cupar Road, and drive the vehicle home, if I felt disposed to yield the ribbons to him, which I had quite resolved to do.Of the noise and excitement, the spurring, yelping, and hallooing, sounding of horns, and cracking of whips; the greetings of rough and boisterous country friends; the criticisms that ensued on dogs, horses, and harness; of how the cover was drawn, and the fox broke away; how huntsmen and hounds followed "owre bank, bush, and scaur," as if the devil had got loose, and life depended on his instant re-capture, and of all the incidents of the hunt, I need give no relation here.The afternoon was well-nigh spent before we saw the last of my uncle's companions; and to the luncheon provided by Mr. Binns we had done full justice, the roof of the drag being covered by a white cloth, and improvised as a dining-table, whereon was spread adéjeûnerservice of splendid Wedgwood ware, the champagne sparkling in the sun, and the long glasses of potash and Beaujolais foaming up for the thirsty; and Largo Law, a green and conical hill, verdant to its summit a thousand feet above the waters of the bay, was throwing its shadow to the eastward, when we made arrangements for our return; and, thanks to dear Cora's tact and management, rather than my own—for timidity and doubt embarrassed me—I contrived to get Lady Louisa into the tandem. After which, by giving a hint to Willie Pitblado, he managed to set the horses kicking and plunging in such an alarming fashion that it was necessary to give them their heads for a little way, as if to soothe their ruffled tempers, just as he adroitly had got into the back seat.Lady Chillingham, the M.P., the Misses Spittal, and Rammerscales were all bundled into the drag; others were on the roof, great-coated or well-shawled, for a cool drive home, and the whole party set out for the Glen,viâClatto and Collessie, a twenty-five miles' drive.It was past the hour of three before all was packed up and we were all ready to leave Largo. The grave old butler, Binns, looked at his watch, and said—"Mr. Newton, you know the route we go by.""Yes; round by Dunnikier Law.""That is the road Sir Nigel wished us to drive; but you'll require to use your whip if we are to be home before dark.""Never fear for that, Binns," said I, while leading the way in the tandem with Lady Louisa beside me, and no attendant or other companion, save Willie Pitblado, who had or had not ears and eyes just as occasion required, Mamma Chillingham believing the while that she was with other ladies in the close carriage."Keep a tight hand on the leader, sir," whispered Pitblado; "she's a blood mare, rather fresh from the stall, and overcorned a bit.""She is hard-mouthed," said I, "and pulls like the devil.""As for the wheeler, I think the splinter-bar is too low, and she kicks and shies at it; but the breeching is as short as we could make it. Keep a sharp look out on both, sir," said he, warningly, and then relapsed into apparent immobility.For thefirsttime since our introduction had I been alone with Lady Louisa—I say alone, for I did not count on my servant, who seemed wholly intent on looking anywhere but at us, and chiefly behind, as if to see how soon we could distance the four-in-hand drag and the rest of our party.The vehicle we occupied was a hybrid affair, which my uncle frequently used, half gig and half dog-cart, four-wheeled, with Collinge's patent axles, lever drag, and silver lamps, smart, strong, light, and decidedly "bang up."We went along at a spanking pace. My fair companion was chatty and delightfully gay; her dark eyes were unusually bright, for the whole events of the day, and the lunchal fresco, had all tended to exhilaration of spirits.She forgot what her rigid, aristocratic, and match-making mamma might think of her being alone thus with a young subaltern of lancers; but though her white ermine boa was not paler than her complexion usually was, she had now a tinge, almost a flush, on her soft, rounded cheek that made her radiantly beautiful, and I felt that now or never was the time to address her in the language of love.I knew that the crisis had come; but how was I to approach it?CHAPTER XI.The rocky guardians of the climeFrown on me, as they menaced death;While echoing still in measured timeThe gallop of my courser's hoof,They hoarsely bid me stand aloof.Where goest thou, madman? Where no shadeOf tree or tent shall screen thy head.Still on—still on; I turn my eyes—The cliffs no longer mock the skies:The peaks shrink back, and hide their brow,Each other's lofty peaks below.FROM THE POETRY OF MICKIEWICZ.As if inspired by fortune, or my good genius, Lady Louisa began thus, in a low voice—"By the way, Mr. Norcliff, you were to have shown me the house in which Alexander Selkirk—or Robinson Crusoe—was born in 1676, I think you said?""Oh; it is only a cottage, consisting of one storey and a garret; but the next time we come to Largo, I shall show you his flip-can, musket, and a lock of his hair.""Ah, that reminds me, Mr. Norcliff, that you must return to me the lock of hair which you obtained when inspired with romance by Miss Calderwood's legend last night.""Lady Louisa, I implore your permission to retain it," said I, in a low voice."To what end, or for what reason?" she asked, with a furtive smile."I am going far, far away, and it will serve as a memento of many happy days, and of one whom I shall never cease to remember, but with——""Why, you don't mean to say that—that you are serious?" she asked, in a voice that betrayed emotion, while my heart rose to my trembling lips, and I turned to gaze upon her with an unmistakable expression of love and tenderness, which made her colour come and go visibly.Reassuring herself, she began to smile."Perhaps your creed is a soldier's one?" said she, with a little convulsive laugh, as she tied her veil under her chin."A soldier's! I hope so; but in what sense do you mean?""'To love all that is lovely, and all that you can,' as the song has it."I laid a hand lightly on her soft arm, and was about to say something there could be no misconstruing, while a film seemed to pass over my eyes, and my soul rose to my lips; but Pitblado, who, whether he was listening or not, had a sharp eye on the cattle, now said—"Beg your pardon, sir, but I don't like the look of that leader.""The blood mare with the white star on her forehead," said I, touching her lightly on the flank with the whip, and making her curvet; "she is usually very quiet.""Perhaps so, sir; but she's always clapping her ears close down—throwing her eyes backward, and showing the whites. She's up to mischief, I'm certain.""Jump down, then," said I, "shorten the curb, and lengthen the traces by a hole or two."This was done in a trice; Willie sprang into his seat like a harlequin, and away we went from the Kirktoun of Largo at a rasping pace."She's a lovely animal, with pasterns like a girl's ankles; but she's clapping her tail a little too close in for my taste, sir, and she's up to some devilry," persisted Pitblado, and ere long his surmises proved correct."We've left the drag behind; distanced it clean already," said I."It's a heavier drag than the regimental one at head-quarters, sir," said Willie, taking the hint to look back now; but the sound of hoofs or wheels could no longer be detected in the still evening air behind.Full of blood and ill-natured, over-corned, and anxious to get back to their stables, the speed of the animals increased to a pace that soon became alarming, and the light vehicle to which they were harnessed, as I have said, a tandem, swept along like a toy at their heels, while we flew eastward by Halhill; and, ere we reached the woods of Balcarris, where the road turns due north, and round by the base of Dunnikier Law, it was evident that they were fairly and undoubtedly off!The leader had got the bit between her teeth, and, when descending a hill-side, the splinter-bar goaded the wheeler to madness. All my strength, together with Pitblado's, failed to arrest their mad career, and, while imploring Lady Louisa, who clung to me, "to hold fast, to sit still," and so forth, I bent all my energies rather to guide them along, and avoid collisions, than to attempt to stop them; and, to add to our troubles, the patent drag gave way.Luckily, the road was smooth, and free from all obstruction."To the left, sir—to the left," shouted Pitblado, as we came to a place where two roads branched off; "that is Drumhead. Our way lies due west."Pitblado might as well have shouted to the wind; the infuriated brutes took their own way, and tore at an awful pace due north. Horses pasturing by the wayside trotted to the rear, and sheep browsing in the fields fled at our approach; cattle kicked up their heels, and scampered away in herds. House-dogs barked, terriers yelled, and pursued us open-mouthed; children, ducks, cocks, and hens fled from the village gutters; peasants, at their cottage doors, held up their hands, with shouts of fear, while broad fields and lines of leafless trees, turf dykes, and hedges, drains, and thatched dwellings seemed all to fly past with railway speed, or to be revolving in a circle round us.A shriek of commiseration burst from my affrighted companion, when, just as we swept past the base of Drumcarra Craig, in the cold, bleak, and elevated district of Cameron, poor Willie Pitblado, who had risen to give me the assistance of his hands in bearing on the reins, or for the last time to try and let down the faulty drag, fell out behind, and vanished in a moment. And now before us spread Magus Muir, where the graves of Archbishop Sharpe's murderers lie in a field that has never been ploughed even unto this day.Twilight had come on, and a brilliant aurora, forming great pillars of variegated light, that shot upward and downward from the horizon to the dome of heaven, filled all the northern quarter of the sky with singular but many masses of streamers. Thus, the brilliance of the atmosphere cast forward in strong and black outline the range of hills that bound the Howe of Fife, and terminate the valley through which the Ceres flows to join the Eden; and all this, I think, conduced to add to the terror of the horses.Pitblado's fate greatly alarmed and concerned me, for he was a brave, handsome, and faithful fellow, and an old acquaintance; but I had another—a nearer, dearer—and more intense source of anxiety. If she who sat beside me, clinging to me, and embracing my left arm with all her energy—she whom I loved so deeply, and whom I had lured into the tandem, when she might have been safely in the drag or carriage, should lose her life that night, of what value would my future existence be, embittered with such a terrible reflection?"If a linchpin comes loose, or a trace gives way," thought I, "all will be over with us both.""Oh, Mr. Norcliff, Mr. Norcliff!" she exclaimed, while the tears, which she had no means of wiping away, streamed over her pale and beautiful face, and while her head half-reclined on my shoulder. "Heaven help us, this is terrible—most terrible! We shall certainly be killed!""Then I hope it shall betogether," I exclaimed. "Lady Loftus—dear Lady Loftus—dearest Louisa (here was a jump) trust to me, and me only! (what stuff men will talk; who else could she trust to?) and if it is in the power of humanity to save you, you shall be saved, or I shall die with you. Louisa, oh, Louisa, hear me. I would not—I could not survive you; but—but sit still, sit close, grasp me and hold on for Heaven's sake. (D—n that leader!) Oh, Louisa, I love you, love you dearly and devotedly. You must believe me when I say it at a time like this; when death, perhaps, is staring us face to face. Speak to me, dearest!"I felt that the day, the hour, the moment of destiny had come; that time of joy or sorrow forever, and casting all upon it, committing the reins to my right hand, I threw my left arm round her, and pressing her to my breast, told her again and again how fondly I loved her, while still our mad steeds tore on."I know that you love me, Mr. Norcliff," she said, in a low and agitated voice, as her constitutional self-possession returned. "I have long seen it—felt it.""My adorable Louisa!""And I will not—will not——"She paused, painfully."What? Oh, speak.""Deny that I love you in return.""Heaven bless you, my darling, for saying so; for lifting a load of anxiety from my heart, and for making me so happy," I whispered, making an effectual effort to kiss her forehead."But then, Mr. Norcliff——""Alas! yes; but what?""There is mamma; you know, perhaps, her views concerning me—ambitious views; but we must take another time, if Heaven spares, to talk of that matter.""What time so good as this?" I exclaimed impetuously, as we tore along, and Magus Muir, the Bishop's Wood, and Gullane's gravestone were left behind. "Poor me, a lieutenant of the lancers; and the earl, your father.""Oh, dear papa—good, easy man—I don't think he troubles his head much in the affair; but if mamma knew all this, such a violation of her standing orders, heaven help us!"She could almost have laughed but for the peril on which we were rushing, and a shrill little cry escaped her, as the leader suddenly quitted the hard highway, and, followed by the wheeler, passed throughan open field gate, and continued at the same frightful speed across a large space of pasture land that sloped steeply down to where my forebodings told me the Eden lay, and there, sure enough, in less than a minute, we could see the river rolling among the copsewood, with its waters swollen by the snows that had recently melted among the Lomond hills.Though a placid stream usually, and having a pretty level course, in that quarter the banks were rugged, and the bed full of fallen larches and large boulder stones. If the vehicle overturned, what might be the fate of her who had just acknowledged that she loved me?A prayer—almost a solemn invocation—rose to my lips, when, with the rapidity of light, the thought occurred to me of heading the leader towards a little stone bridge that spanned the stream. It was a mere narrow footway for shepherds, sheep, and cattle, and not of sufficient breadth to permit the passage of a four-wheeled gig; but I knew that if the latter could be successfully jammed between the walls, the course of the runaways would be arrested.There was no alternative between attempting this and risking death from drowning or mutilation in the rugged bed of the swollen stream.Down the steep grassy slope our foam-covered cattle rushed straight for the narrow bridge; I grasped the rail of the seat with one hand and arm; the other was round Louisa, lest the coming shock might throw us off. In an instant we felt it, and she clung to me, half-fainting, as there was a terrible crash, a ripping and splitting sound, as wood was smashed and harness rent. Our course was arrested—the wheels and axle of the fore-carriage wedged between the stone walls of the narrow bridge, the wheeler kicking furiously at the splinter-bar and splash-board, and the leader, the blood mare, the source of all the mischief, hanging over the parapet in the stream, snorting, half-swimming, and for ought I cared, wholly hanging.My first thought was my companion. We both trembled in every limb as I lifted her gently to the ground, and placed the seat-cushions on a stone, where she might sit and compose herself till I considered what we should do next, and where we were.She was greatly agitated, but passively permitted me to encircle her with my arms, to assure her that she was safe, to press her hands, and to wipe away her tears caressingly. I forgot all about poor Pitblado, "spilt" on the road, all about my uncle's best blood mare hanging in the traces, and all about the half-ruined gig.In short, I felt only the most exquisite joy that I had gained, as it were, life and Louisa together. It was that moment of intense rapture, when, combined with the natural revulsion of feeling consequent to escape from a deadly peril, I enjoyed that emotion which a man feels once, and once only, in a lifetime, when the first woman he loves confesses to a mutual regard; and, half-kneeling, I stooped over her, kissing her again and again, assuring her—of I know not what.From one of her fingers I transferred to mine a ring of small value—a pearl set in blue enamel, leaving in its place a rose diamond. It was a beautiful stone, of the purest water, which I had found when our troops sacked the great pagoda at Rangoon, and I had it set at Calcutta by a jeweller, who assured me that it was worth nine hundred rupees, or ninety pounds, and I only regretted now that it was not worth ten times as much, to be truly worthy of the slender finger on which I placed it.She regarded me with a loving smile on her pale face, and in the quiet depths of her soft dark eyes, as she reclined in my arms. I gazed on her with emotions of the purest rapture. She was now humbled, gentle and loving—this brilliant beauty, this proud earl's daughter—mine, indeed—all that a man could dream of as perfection in a woman or as a wife; at least, I thought so then; and I was not a little proud of the idea of what our mess would say—the colonel, Studhome, Scriven, Wilford, Berkeley, and the rest—of a marriage that would certainly be creditable to the regiment, though we had titles and honourables enough in the lancers; and already, in fancy, I saw myself "tooling" into Maidstone barrack-square in a dashing phaeton, with a pair of cream-coloured ponies, with Norcliff and Loftus quartered on the panels, and silver harness, and Louisa by my side, in one of the most perfect of morning toilettes and of marriage bonnets that London millinery could produce.Poor devil! with only two hundred per annum besides my pay, and the war before me, I was thus acquiring castles in Airshire, and estates in the Isle of Sky.Oblivious of time, while the woods and hills of Dairsie were darkening against the sky, while the murmuring Eden flowed past towards the Tay, and the ever-changing spears and streamers of the northern aurora were growing brighter and more bright, I remained by the side of Louisa, wholly entranced, and only half-conscious that something should be done to enable us to return home; for night was coming on—the early night of the last days of January, when the sober sun must set at half-past four—and I knew not how far we were from Calderwood Glen.Suddenly a shout startled us; the hoofs of horses were heard coming rapidly along the highway, and then three mounted men wheeled into the field and rode straight towards us. To my great satisfaction, one proved to be my faithful fellow, Willie Pitblado, who, not a wit the worse for his capsize on the road, had procured horses and assistance at the place called Drumhead, and tracked us to where we lay, wrecked by the old bridge of the Eden."Poor Willie," said Louisa, "I thought you were killed.""No, my lady," said he, touching his hat; "it's lang or the de'il dees by the dykeside."Of this answer she could make nothing.The gig was now released and run back, and though scratched, splintered, and started in many places by the shock to which it had been subjected, it was still quite serviceable. The wheeler was traced to it again, the leader, her ardour completely cooled now, was fished out of the stream, and harnessed again, and in less than half an hour, so able had been the assistance rendered us, we were bowling along the highway towards my uncle's house.An hour's rapid driving soon brought us in sight of the long avenue, the lighted windows, and quaint façade of the old mansion, at the door of which I drew up; and as I threw the whip and reins to Willie Pitblado, and, fearless now even of Mamma Chillingham, handed my companion down, tenderly and caressingly, I found myself an engaged man, and thefiancéof one of the fairest women in Britain—the brilliant Louisa Loftus!CHAPTER XII.It passed—and never marble looked more paleThan Lucy, while she listened to his tale.He marked her not; his eye was cold and clear,Fixed on a bed of withering roses there;He marked her not, for different thoughts possessedHis anxious mind, and laboured in his breast.ELLIS.Notwithstanding all that had passed, and that we had been carried so far in the wrong direction, we were not long behind the rest of our party in reaching Calderwood, where the history of our disaster fully eclipsed for the evening all the exciting details of the fox-hunters, though many gentlemen in scarlet, with spattered tops and tights, whom Sir Nigel had brought, made the drawing-room look unusually gay.Lady Louisa remained long in her own apartment; the time seemed an age to me; yet I was happy—supremely happy. I had a vague idea of the new emotions that served, perhaps, to detain her there; but an air of cold reserve and unmistakable displeasure hovered on the forehead of her haughty mother.When Louisa joined us, she had perfectly recovered her usual equanimity and presence of mind—her calm, pale, and placid aspect. She was somewhat silent and reserved; this passed for her natural terror of the late accident, and though we remained some distance apart, her fine dark eyes sought mine, ever and anon, and were full of intelligent glances, that made my heart leap with joy.Cora, who shrewdly suspected that there had been more in the affair than what Berkeley called "a doocid spill," regarded us with interest, and with a tearful earnestness that surprised us, after our return, and during the explanation which we were pleased to make. But whatever tales my face told, Louisa's was unfathomable, so from its expression suspicious little Cora could gather nothing; though, had she carried her scrutiny a little further, she might have detected my famous Rangoon diamond sparkling on the engaged finger of her friend's left hand.Cora was on this night, to me, an enigma!What had gone wrong with her? When she smiled, it seemed to several—to me especially—that the kind little heart from whence these smiles were wrung was sick. Why was this, and what or who was the source of her taciturnity and secret sorrow?—not Berkeley, surely—they had come home in the drag together—she could never love such an ass as Berkeley; and if the fellow dared to trifle with her—but I thrust the thought aside, and resolved to trust the affair to her friend and gossip, the Lady Loftus.A few more days glided swiftly and joyously past at Calderwood Glen; we had no more riding and driving; but, as the weather was singularly open and balmy for the season, we actually had more than one picnic in the leafless woods, and I betook me to the study of botany and arboriculture with the ladies.I enjoyed all the delicious charm of a successful first love! The last thought on going to repose; the first on waking in the morning; and the source of many a soft and happy dream between.The peculiarity, or partial disparity, of our positions in life caused secrecy. Denied, by the presence of others, the pleasure of openly conversing of our love, at times we had recourse to furtive glances, or a secret and thrilling pressure of the hand or arm was all we could achieve.Then there were sighs the deeper for suppression,And stolen glances sweeter for the theft;And burning blushes, though for no transgression,Tremblings when met, and restlessness when left.Small and trivial though these may seem, they proved the sum of our existence, and even of mighty interest, lighting up the eye and causing the pulses of the heart to quicken.We became full of petty and lover-like stratagems, and of enigmatical phrases, all the result of the difficulties that surrounded our intercourse when others were present—especially Lady Chillingham, who was by nature cold, haughty, and suspicious, with, I think, a natural born antipathy to subalterns of cavalry in particular. Cora saw through our little artifices, and Berkeley, that Anglo-Scotch snob of the nineteenth century, had ever his eyes remarkably wide open to all that was going on around him, and thus the perils of discovery and instant separation were great, while our happy love was in the flush.This danger gave us a common sympathy, a united object, a delicious union of thought and impulse. Nor was romance wanting to add zest to the secrecy of our passion. Ah, were I to live a thousand years, never should I forget the days of happiness I spent in Calderwood Glen with Louisa Loftus.Our interviews had all the mystery of a conspiracy, though, save Cora, none as yet suspected our love; and there was a part of the garden, between two old yew hedges—so old that they had seen the Calderwoods of past ages cooing and billing, in powdered wigs and coats of mail, with dames in Scottish farthingales and red-heeled shoes—where, at certain hours, by a tacit understanding, we were sure of meeting; but with all the appearance of chance, though occasionally for a time so brief, that we could but exchange a pressure of the hand, or snatch a caress, perhaps a kiss, and then separate in opposite directions.Those were blessed and joyous interviews; memories to treasure and brood over with delight when alone. In the society of our friends, my heart throbbed wildly, when by a glance, a smile, a stolen touch of the hand, Louisa reminded me of what none else could perceive, the secret understanding that existed between us.And yet all this happiness was clouded by a sense of its brevity, and by our fears for the future; the obstacles that rank and great fortune on her side, the lack of both on mine, raised between us; and then there was the certain prospect of a long and dangerous—alas! it might prove, a final separation."They who love," writes an anonymous author, "must ever drink deeply of the cup of trembling; but, at times, there will arise in their hearts a nameless terror, a sickening anxiety for the future, whose brightness all depends upon this one cherished treasure, which often proves a foreboding of some real anguish looming in the distant hours.""Where is all this to end?" I asked of myself, as the conviction that something must be done forced itself upon me, for the happy days were passing, and my short leave of absence was drawing to a close.One day, by the absence of some of our friends, and by the occupation of others, we found ourselves alone, and permitted to have a longer interview than usual, in our yew-hedge walk, and we were conversing of the future."I have two hundred a year besides my pay, Louisa." (She smiled sadly at this, and the smile went doubly to my heart.) "The money has been lodged for my troop with Cox and Co., and my good uncle means well concerning me; yet, I feel all these as being so small, that were I to address the Earl of Chillingham on the subject of our engagement, it would seem that I had little to offer, and little to urge, save that which is, perhaps, valueless in his aristocratic eyes——""And that is?""My love for you.""Don't think of addressing him," said she, weeping on my shoulder; "he has already views for me in another quarter.""Views, Louisa!""Yes; pardon me for paining you, dearest, by saying so; but it is nevertheless true.""And these views?" I asked, impetuously."Are an offer made for my hand by Lord Slubber de Gullion."My heart died within me on hearing this name, which, as I once before stated, comes as near the original as possible."Hence you see, dearest Newton," she resumed, in a mournful and sweetly-modulated voice, "were you to address my father, it would only rouse mamma, and have the effect of interrupting our correspondence for ever.""Good heavens! what then are we to do?'"Wait in hope.""How long?""Alas! I know not; but for the present at least our engagement, like our meetings and our letters, if we can correspond, must be secret—secret all. Were the earl, my father, to know that I loved you, Newton (how sweetly those words sounded), he and mamma would urge on Lord Slubber's suit, and, on finding that I refused, there would be no bounds to mamma's wrath. You remember Cora's story of the 'Clenched Hand;' you remember the 'Bride of Lammermoor,' and must see what a determined mother and long domestic tyranny may do."I clasped my hands, for my heart was wrung; but she regarded me kindly and lovingly."On your return home, as colonel of your regiment, perhaps, we shall then, at all hazards, bring the matter before him, and treat Slubber's offer with contempt, as the senile folly of an old man in his dotage. You, at least, shall propose for me in form——""And if Lord Chillingham refuse?""Though we English people can't make Scotch marriages now, I shall be yours, dearest Newton, as I am now, only that it shall be irrevocably and for ever."A close and mute embrace followed, and then I left her in a paroxysm of grief, while my head whirled with the combined effects of love and joy, and of sorrow, not unmixed with anger."I wonder what the subjects are that lovers talk of in their tête-à-têtes," says my brother of the pen and sword, W. H. Maxwell, and the same surmise frequently occurred to myself, before I met or knew Louisa Loftus.We never lacked a subject now. The peculiarities of our relative positions, our caution for the present, and our natural anxieties for the future, afforded us full topics for conversation or surmise; but the few remaining days of my leave "between returns" glided away at Calderwood Glen; the time for my departure drew nigh; already had Pitblado divided a sixpence with my lady's soubrette, and packed up all my superfluous traps, and within six and thirty hours Berkeley and I would have to report ourselves in uniform at head-quarters, or be returned absent without leave.It was in the evening, when I had gone as usual to meet Louisa at the seat where the close-clipped yew hedges formed a pleasant screen, that, to my surprise, and by the merest chance, I found it occupied by my cousin Cora.The January sunset was beautiful; the purple flush of evening covered all the western sky, and bathed in warm tints the slopes of the Lomond hills. The air was still, and we heard only the cawing of the venerable rooks that perched among the woods of the old manor, or swung to and fro on its many gilt vanes.Cora was somewhat silent, and I, being thoroughly disappointed by finding her there in lieu of Louisa Loftus, was somewhat taciturn, if not almost sulky.Somehow—but how, I know not—Cora led me to talk insensibly of our early days, and as we did so, I could perceive that she regarded me earnestly from time to time, after I simply remarked that ere long I should be far, far away from her, and among other scenes. Her dovelike, dark eye became suffused, and the tinge on her rounded cheek died away when I laughingly referred to the days when we had been little lovers, and when Fred Wilford and I—he was now a captain of ours—used to punch each other's heads in pure spite and jealousy about her; but this youthful jealousy once took a more dangerous turn.Among the rocks in the glen an adder of vast size took up its residence, and had bitten several persons. It had been seen by some to leap more than seven yards high, and was a source of such terror to the whole parish, that my uncle, and even the provost of Dunfermline, had offered rewards for its destruction.On this I boldly dared my boy-rival to face it; but Fred Wilford, who was on a visit to us from Rugby, had more prudence, or less love for little Cora, and so declined the attempt.Flushed with boyish pride and recklessness, I climbed the steep face of the rock, stirred up the adder with a long stick, flung it to the ground, and killed it by repeated blows of an axe, a feat of which my uncle never grew tired of telling, and the reptile was now in the library, sealed up in a glass case, being deemed a family trophy, and, as Binns said, always kept in the best of spirits.I sat with Cora's white and slender hand in mine, gazing at her soft and piquant features, her pouting lips and dimpled chin, and the dark hair so smoothly braided under her little hat, and over each pretty and delicate ear. Cora was very gentle and very charming; she had ever been to me a kind little playmate, a loving sister, and she sighed deeply when I spoke of my approaching departure."You go by sea?" she asked."If we go to Turkey—of course.""Embarking at Southampton?""Embarking at Southampton—exactly, and sailing directly for the East, I suppose," said I, while leisurely lighting a cigar; "I shall soon learn all the details and probabilities at head-quarters; but the route may not come for two months yet, as red-tape goes.""You will think of us sometimes, Newton, in those strange and dangerous lands? Of your poor uncle, who loves you so well, and—and of me?""Of course, and of Louisa Loftus. Don't you think her very handsome?""I think her lovely.""My cigar annoys you?""Not at all, Newton.""But it makes you turn your face away.""You met often, I believe, before you came here?""Oh, very often. I used to see her at the cathedral every Sunday in Canterbury; at the balls at Rochester and Maidstone——""And in London?""Repeatedly! I saw her at her first presentation at Court, when the colonel presented me, on obtaining my lieutenancy, and returning from foreign service. She created quite a sensation!"I spoke in such glowing terms of my admiration for Louisa Loftus, that some time elapsed before I detected the extreme pallor of Cora's cheek, and a peculiar quivering of her under lip."Good heavens, my dear girl, you are ill! It is this confounded cigar—one of a box that Willie got me in Dunfermline," I exclaimed, throwing it away. "Your hand is trembling, too.""Is it? Oh, no! Stay! I am only a little faint," she murmured."Faint! Why the deuce should you be faint, Cora?""This bower of yew hedges is close; the atmosphere is still, or chill, or something," she said, in a low voice, while pressing a lovely little hand on her bosom; "and it seems to me that I felt a pang here.""A pang, Cora?""Yes, I feel it sometimes.""You, one of the best waltzers in the county! You have no affection of the heart, or any of that sort of thing?"She smiled sadly, even bitterly, and rose, saying—"Here comes Lady Louisa. Say nothing of this."Her dark eyes were swimming; but not a tear fell from their long, black, silky lashes, that lent such softness to her sweet and feminine face. She abruptly withdrew her tremulous hands from mine, and just as Louisa approached, hurriedly left me.What did all this emotion mean? What did it display or conceal? I was thoroughly bewildered.A sudden light began to break upon me."What is this?" thought I. "Can Cora be in love with me herself? Oh, nonsense! she has known me from boyhood. The idea is absurd! Yet her manner——. This will never do. I must avoid her, and to-morrow I leave for England!"Louisa sat beside me, and, save her, Cora and all the world were alike forgotten.
* * * * *
Such was Cora's strange story, to which we all, myself included, listened with attention, though, sooth to say, I had heard it frequently before. Berkeley declared it to be "doocid good, but doocid queer."
In another land I was yet to hear a story still more gloomy and improbable than this—a story to be related in its place, and in some points not unlike the legend of the clenched hand.
While Cora had been rehearsing her gloomy story of the two ruined towers, my eyes had scarcely ever wandered from Louisa Loftus, who, with Miss Wilford and I, was seated in the same flirting, or tête-à-tête chair, and who, on this night, was in all the pride of her calm, pale, aristocratic beauty.
She was in the zenith of her charms; her figure, finely rounded, was full—almost voluptuous; her features were remarkably expressive to be so regular; and her eyes and glorious hair were wondrously dark when contrasted with the pure whiteness of her skin.
Seated under the brilliant crystal gaselier, the fine contour of her head, and the exquisite proportions of her bare shoulders and neck, on which a circlet of brilliants sparkled, were seen to perfection, and I felt bewildered while I watched her. Thus, I fear, Miss Wilford, in whose blue eyes a mischievous expression was twinkling, did not find me very entertaining company.
Down that fair neck a long black ringlet wandered, as if to allure, and at times it almost touched, my hand. Intoxicated by her beauty and close vicinity, I determined to do something to express my passion, even if I should do it—miserable timidity and subterfuge—under cover of a jest—a mockery.
Tremulously, between my fingers, unnoticed by others, I took the stray ringlet, and whispered in her ears—
"A strange story, that of my cousin's, Lady Louisa."
"And the lock of hair! such a terrible idea!" said she, shuddering, while her white shoulders and brilliants shone in the light together.
"Does it terrify you?"
"More than it gratifies me."
"As the chances are that I may be killed and buried in the East, will—will you give methisto lie in the trenches with me?" said I, curling the soft ringlet round my finger, with mock gallantry, while my heart beat wildly with hope and expectation.
She turned her dark, full eyes to mine, with an expression of mingled surprise and sweetness.
"Take itnow, Mr. Norcliff, for heaven's sake, rather than come for it, as William Calderwood came," said the sprightly Miss Wilford, taking a pair of scissors from a gueridon table that stood close by; and ere Lady Loftus could speak, the dark ringlet was cut off, and consigned to my pocket-book, while my lips trembled as I whispered my thanks, and laughingly said—
"What says Pope?
'The meeting points the sacred hair dissever,From the fair head for ever, and for ever.'"
'The meeting points the sacred hair dissever,From the fair head for ever, and for ever.'"
'The meeting points the sacred hair dissever,
From the fair head for ever, and for ever.'"
"This is all very well, Mr. Norcliff," said she, laughing behind her fan; "but I cannot submit to be shorn in jest, and shall insist on having that lock of hair from you to-morrow."
She had a lovely smile in her dark eyes, and a half-pout on her beautiful lip; but Cora—I know not why—looked on me sadly, and shook her pretty head with an air of warning, that seemed as much as to say I had erred in my gallantry, if not in my generalship.
That night my heart beat happily; I went to sleep with that jetty tress beneath my pillow; thus, for me, Cousin Cora had not in vain told her quaint old legend of "The Clenched Hand."
CHAPTER X.
I loved—yes. Ah, let me tellThe fatal charms by which I fell!Her form the tam'risk's waving shoot,Her breast the cocoa's youngling fruit.Her eyes were jetty, jet her hair,O'ershadowing face like lotus fair;Her lips were rubies, guarding flowersOf jasmine, dimned with vernal showers.STONE TALK.
I loved—yes. Ah, let me tellThe fatal charms by which I fell!Her form the tam'risk's waving shoot,Her breast the cocoa's youngling fruit.
I loved—yes. Ah, let me tell
The fatal charms by which I fell!
Her form the tam'risk's waving shoot,
Her breast the cocoa's youngling fruit.
Her eyes were jetty, jet her hair,O'ershadowing face like lotus fair;Her lips were rubies, guarding flowersOf jasmine, dimned with vernal showers.STONE TALK.
Her eyes were jetty, jet her hair,
O'ershadowing face like lotus fair;
Her lips were rubies, guarding flowers
Of jasmine, dimned with vernal showers.
STONE TALK.
STONE TALK.
The next day was to see a crisis in my fate which I could not have anticipated, combined with the narrow escape from mutilation or death of more than one of our pleasant party assembled at the Glen.
With all the intensity of my soul, I wished to learn my chances of success with the brilliant Lady Louisa, yet trembled to make the essay.
Why, or how was this?
Timid and irresolute, fearing to know the best or the worst from the lips of a mere girl, I asked myself was it I—I, who, at the bombardment of Rangoon, at the storm of the Dagon Pagoda, and in the night attack on Frome, had feared neither the bullets nor poisoned arrows of the two-sworded barbarians whom it was our ill-luck to encounter in those tropical regions; I, who, without fear or flinching, was now ready to meet the Russians in Turkey, or anywhere else; was it I that could not muster hardihood to reveal the emotions, the honourable love, of an honest heart? It was; and, at times, I felt inclined to utter a malison on that which General Napier so truly and happily termed, "the cold shade of aristocracy;" for that it was which chilled and baffled me.
In the drawing-room the first who met me was my Cousin Cora, looking pale, but bright-eyed, with her pure complexion, and in all her morning prettiness.
"Lady Loftus, I presume, has not appeared yet?" said I.
"It is always Lady Loftus with you, Cousin Newton," said she, pettishly, "though you came here to see papa and me. What have you done with that celebrated lock of hair? Put it in the fire, eh?"
"In the fire, Cora! It is here, in my pocket-book."
"Doubtless you are very proud of it?"
"I cannot but be, Cora," said I, taking her hands in mine, and drawing her into the recess of an oriel window; "and she is herself so proud and reserved. I am sure that she knows what you have seen, Cora; at least, what my uncle says you have detected,—that—that——"
"What, Newton? How rambling and mysterious you are!"
"That I love her."
"You are sure she knows this?" asked Cora.
"Yes, my dear cousin; it is impossible that the regard with which she has inspired me could fail to be known, seen, or felt by her—I mean that it must have been apparent to her, by a thousand mute indications, since we first met in England. It is so to you, is it not?"
"Ye—yes," replied Cora, with her face averted, for no doubt she was smiling at my earnest simplicity.
"Do you think she would tolerate attentions that were valueless, or would trifle with me?"
"I cannot say."
"But you are her particular friend. Oh, Cora, be mine too!"
"What on earth do you mean?" asked Cora, showing me still only her pretty profile; "you cannot wishmeto propose to her for you?"
"No; but you hide your sweet face, Cora. You are laughing at me!"
"Oh, no, I am not laughing," replied Cora, in a rich, low tremulous voice. "Heaven knows, Newton, how far my thoughts are removed from laughter."
"And—what is this, Cora dear? Your eyes are full of tears!"
"Are they?" she exclaimed angrily, as she withdrew her hands from mine.
"Yes—ah, I see it all," said I, bitterly; "you know Lady Louisa's heart better than I do, and deem my love for her a hopeless one."
"It is not so," replied Cora, while her cheek flushed, and, though her long lashes drooped, an air of hauteur stole over her usually gentle and lovable bearing. "I know nothing of the matter. Search her heart for yourself; assist you I cannot; and what is more, Newton Norcliff," she added haughtily, "I will not!"
"Cora!" I exclaimed, with surprise; "but be it so. Myself then must be my own advocate, and if my love for Lady Louisa——"
What I was about to add, or how I meant to finish the sentence, I know not, for at that moment she approached, with her calm, somewhat conventional, but beautiful smile, to kiss Cora, and present her hand to me. The rest of our party rapidly assembled.
Had she heard thelastwords of my interrupted speech? I almost feared, or rather hoped, that she had.
"This, I find, is to be the day of another expedition, Mr. Norcliff," she observed.
"So it appears. We are to see the Fifeshire hounds throw off at Largo House; and afterwards we are to drive home by a circuit, through half the country, to let Lady Chillingham see the scenery."
"In a January day!" drawled Berkeley. "Do we—aw—start before tiffin?"
"If by that you mean luncheon, I say after it, decidedly," said Lady Chillingham, in her cool, determined manner, which few—the earl, her husband, especially—could gainsay. "I have to write to my Lord Slubber and others."
"Pardon me, my dear Lady Chillingham, but this arrangement is impossible," said my uncle; "we must leave this in time to see the hounds throw off."
"And the hour, Sir Nigel?"
"Sharp twelve. Binns will take luncheon for us in the boot of the drag. Berkeley, you, I believe, are to don the pink, and ride with me. I shall cross the country to-night, but not in my official capacity, as I have not yet assumed all the duties appertaining to the honourable office of the master of the Fifeshire hounds. And now to breakfast. Lady Chillingham, permit me—your hand, and we shall lead the way."
"When I do take the hunting of the country into my own care," resumed my uncle, "I shall show you as noble a pack as ever drew cover; ay, dogs as smart as ever had their tails running after them, even before cub-hunting begins next season; and so compactly shall they go, that a tablecloth might cover them all when in full cry."
"By that time, uncle, I shall be testing the mettle of the Russian cavalry; but my heart will be with you all here in Calderwood Glen."
Lady Louisa's eyes were upon me as I said this; their expression was unfathomable, so I was fain to construe it into something sympathetic or of interest in my fate.
The day was clear and beautiful; the air serene, though cold, and the swelling outlines of the green and verdant hills were sharply defined against the blue of the sky, where a few fleecy clouds were floating on the west wind.
Our party lost no time in preparing for the expedition of the day, and, ere long, the vehicles, the horses, and even the ladies, were all in marching order. I had too much tact to attempt to engross Lady Loftus at the beginning of the day; but resolved, as she was to be with "mamma" in the drag, to become one of its occupants when returning home, if I could achieve nothing better.
My man Pitblado, and other grooms, brought forth the saddled horses, and my uncle appeared in a red hunting-coat, boots and tops, with whip and cap complete, his cheek glowing with health and pleasure, and his eyes sparkling as if he were again sixteen.
"By the way, Newton," said he, slapping his boot-tops, "that lancer fellow of yours——"
"Willie Pitblado, my servant?"
"Yes, well, he has tumbled Lady Chillingham's French soubrette about, as if he had known her from infancy; and what suits the meridian of Maidstone barracks won't do at Calderwood Glen, so tell him. And now, Mr. Berkeley, here are Dunearn, Saline, and Splinter-bar. You can have your choice of cavalry; but shorten your stirrups. I always take the leathers up two holes for hunting."
"Aw—haw, thanks," drawled this Dundreary (whose fashionable hunting suit, in cut and brilliancy of colour, quite eclipsed the well-worn costume of the jolly old baronet), as he proceeded leisurely to examine the bridle and girths, observing the while to me—
"Louisa looks well this morning."
"Louisa!" I repeated, with astonishment: "is it the mare—her name is Saline, so called from some hills in Fife—or whom on earth do you mean?"
"Why, Lady Loftus, to be sure."
"And you speak of her thus freely or familiarly?"
"Ya—haw—yes."
"By Jove, you surprise me!"
"By what, eh?"
"Your perfect assurance, to be plain with you, my friend."
"Don't deem it such, my dear fellaw, though it is doocid dangerous when one comes to speak of so charming a girl by her Christian name; it shows how a fellaw thinks orfeels, and all that sort of thing; do you understand?"
"Not very clearly; but consider, Berkeley, what you are about, and don't make a deucid fool of yourself," said I, with undisguised anger.
"No danger of that; but—haw—surely you are not spooney in that quarter yourself? Eh—haw—if I thought so, curse me if I wouldn't draw stakes, and hedge. You know that I like you, Newton; and your old uncle, Sir Nigel, is a doocid good kind of fellaw—a trump, in fact," he added, while lightly vaulting into his saddle, and gathering up his reins, but eying me like a lynx, through his glass, as if to read my most secret thoughts.
Disdaining to reply, I drew haughtily back.
"So-oh," said my uncle, who was now mounted. "I know that grey mare, Saline, well; so, Mr. Berkeley, by gently feeling her mouth, and grinding her up to the requisite pitch of speed, she'll soon leave the whole field behind her."
Our party was numerous; including my uncle's guests, some thirty ladies and gentlemen were about to start from the Glen. We were well off in conveyances. There was the great old family carriage, cosily stuffed, easily hung, pannelled and escutcheoned, with rumble and hammercloth; there was a stately drag of a dark chocolate colour, with red wheels, and a glorious team of greys; a dashing waggonette and tandem, with two brilliant bays, that, in the shafts, were well worth three hundred pounds each; and there was a dainty little phaeton, in which the general was to drive Cora and Miss Wilford, drawn by two of the sleekest, roundest, and sauciest little ponies that ever came out of Ultima Thule.
I was to drive the drag to the meet; and, after the hunt, Berkeley was to meet us at a certain point on the Cupar Road, and drive the vehicle home, if I felt disposed to yield the ribbons to him, which I had quite resolved to do.
Of the noise and excitement, the spurring, yelping, and hallooing, sounding of horns, and cracking of whips; the greetings of rough and boisterous country friends; the criticisms that ensued on dogs, horses, and harness; of how the cover was drawn, and the fox broke away; how huntsmen and hounds followed "owre bank, bush, and scaur," as if the devil had got loose, and life depended on his instant re-capture, and of all the incidents of the hunt, I need give no relation here.
The afternoon was well-nigh spent before we saw the last of my uncle's companions; and to the luncheon provided by Mr. Binns we had done full justice, the roof of the drag being covered by a white cloth, and improvised as a dining-table, whereon was spread adéjeûnerservice of splendid Wedgwood ware, the champagne sparkling in the sun, and the long glasses of potash and Beaujolais foaming up for the thirsty; and Largo Law, a green and conical hill, verdant to its summit a thousand feet above the waters of the bay, was throwing its shadow to the eastward, when we made arrangements for our return; and, thanks to dear Cora's tact and management, rather than my own—for timidity and doubt embarrassed me—I contrived to get Lady Louisa into the tandem. After which, by giving a hint to Willie Pitblado, he managed to set the horses kicking and plunging in such an alarming fashion that it was necessary to give them their heads for a little way, as if to soothe their ruffled tempers, just as he adroitly had got into the back seat.
Lady Chillingham, the M.P., the Misses Spittal, and Rammerscales were all bundled into the drag; others were on the roof, great-coated or well-shawled, for a cool drive home, and the whole party set out for the Glen,viâClatto and Collessie, a twenty-five miles' drive.
It was past the hour of three before all was packed up and we were all ready to leave Largo. The grave old butler, Binns, looked at his watch, and said—
"Mr. Newton, you know the route we go by."
"Yes; round by Dunnikier Law."
"That is the road Sir Nigel wished us to drive; but you'll require to use your whip if we are to be home before dark."
"Never fear for that, Binns," said I, while leading the way in the tandem with Lady Louisa beside me, and no attendant or other companion, save Willie Pitblado, who had or had not ears and eyes just as occasion required, Mamma Chillingham believing the while that she was with other ladies in the close carriage.
"Keep a tight hand on the leader, sir," whispered Pitblado; "she's a blood mare, rather fresh from the stall, and overcorned a bit."
"She is hard-mouthed," said I, "and pulls like the devil."
"As for the wheeler, I think the splinter-bar is too low, and she kicks and shies at it; but the breeching is as short as we could make it. Keep a sharp look out on both, sir," said he, warningly, and then relapsed into apparent immobility.
For thefirsttime since our introduction had I been alone with Lady Louisa—I say alone, for I did not count on my servant, who seemed wholly intent on looking anywhere but at us, and chiefly behind, as if to see how soon we could distance the four-in-hand drag and the rest of our party.
The vehicle we occupied was a hybrid affair, which my uncle frequently used, half gig and half dog-cart, four-wheeled, with Collinge's patent axles, lever drag, and silver lamps, smart, strong, light, and decidedly "bang up."
We went along at a spanking pace. My fair companion was chatty and delightfully gay; her dark eyes were unusually bright, for the whole events of the day, and the lunchal fresco, had all tended to exhilaration of spirits.
She forgot what her rigid, aristocratic, and match-making mamma might think of her being alone thus with a young subaltern of lancers; but though her white ermine boa was not paler than her complexion usually was, she had now a tinge, almost a flush, on her soft, rounded cheek that made her radiantly beautiful, and I felt that now or never was the time to address her in the language of love.
I knew that the crisis had come; but how was I to approach it?
CHAPTER XI.
The rocky guardians of the climeFrown on me, as they menaced death;While echoing still in measured timeThe gallop of my courser's hoof,They hoarsely bid me stand aloof.Where goest thou, madman? Where no shadeOf tree or tent shall screen thy head.Still on—still on; I turn my eyes—The cliffs no longer mock the skies:The peaks shrink back, and hide their brow,Each other's lofty peaks below.FROM THE POETRY OF MICKIEWICZ.
The rocky guardians of the climeFrown on me, as they menaced death;While echoing still in measured timeThe gallop of my courser's hoof,They hoarsely bid me stand aloof.Where goest thou, madman? Where no shadeOf tree or tent shall screen thy head.Still on—still on; I turn my eyes—The cliffs no longer mock the skies:The peaks shrink back, and hide their brow,Each other's lofty peaks below.FROM THE POETRY OF MICKIEWICZ.
The rocky guardians of the clime
Frown on me, as they menaced death;
While echoing still in measured time
The gallop of my courser's hoof,
They hoarsely bid me stand aloof.
Where goest thou, madman? Where no shade
Of tree or tent shall screen thy head.
Still on—still on; I turn my eyes—
The cliffs no longer mock the skies:
The peaks shrink back, and hide their brow,
Each other's lofty peaks below.
FROM THE POETRY OF MICKIEWICZ.
FROM THE POETRY OF MICKIEWICZ.
As if inspired by fortune, or my good genius, Lady Louisa began thus, in a low voice—
"By the way, Mr. Norcliff, you were to have shown me the house in which Alexander Selkirk—or Robinson Crusoe—was born in 1676, I think you said?"
"Oh; it is only a cottage, consisting of one storey and a garret; but the next time we come to Largo, I shall show you his flip-can, musket, and a lock of his hair."
"Ah, that reminds me, Mr. Norcliff, that you must return to me the lock of hair which you obtained when inspired with romance by Miss Calderwood's legend last night."
"Lady Louisa, I implore your permission to retain it," said I, in a low voice.
"To what end, or for what reason?" she asked, with a furtive smile.
"I am going far, far away, and it will serve as a memento of many happy days, and of one whom I shall never cease to remember, but with——"
"Why, you don't mean to say that—that you are serious?" she asked, in a voice that betrayed emotion, while my heart rose to my trembling lips, and I turned to gaze upon her with an unmistakable expression of love and tenderness, which made her colour come and go visibly.
Reassuring herself, she began to smile.
"Perhaps your creed is a soldier's one?" said she, with a little convulsive laugh, as she tied her veil under her chin.
"A soldier's! I hope so; but in what sense do you mean?"
"'To love all that is lovely, and all that you can,' as the song has it."
I laid a hand lightly on her soft arm, and was about to say something there could be no misconstruing, while a film seemed to pass over my eyes, and my soul rose to my lips; but Pitblado, who, whether he was listening or not, had a sharp eye on the cattle, now said—
"Beg your pardon, sir, but I don't like the look of that leader."
"The blood mare with the white star on her forehead," said I, touching her lightly on the flank with the whip, and making her curvet; "she is usually very quiet."
"Perhaps so, sir; but she's always clapping her ears close down—throwing her eyes backward, and showing the whites. She's up to mischief, I'm certain."
"Jump down, then," said I, "shorten the curb, and lengthen the traces by a hole or two."
This was done in a trice; Willie sprang into his seat like a harlequin, and away we went from the Kirktoun of Largo at a rasping pace.
"She's a lovely animal, with pasterns like a girl's ankles; but she's clapping her tail a little too close in for my taste, sir, and she's up to some devilry," persisted Pitblado, and ere long his surmises proved correct.
"We've left the drag behind; distanced it clean already," said I.
"It's a heavier drag than the regimental one at head-quarters, sir," said Willie, taking the hint to look back now; but the sound of hoofs or wheels could no longer be detected in the still evening air behind.
Full of blood and ill-natured, over-corned, and anxious to get back to their stables, the speed of the animals increased to a pace that soon became alarming, and the light vehicle to which they were harnessed, as I have said, a tandem, swept along like a toy at their heels, while we flew eastward by Halhill; and, ere we reached the woods of Balcarris, where the road turns due north, and round by the base of Dunnikier Law, it was evident that they were fairly and undoubtedly off!
The leader had got the bit between her teeth, and, when descending a hill-side, the splinter-bar goaded the wheeler to madness. All my strength, together with Pitblado's, failed to arrest their mad career, and, while imploring Lady Louisa, who clung to me, "to hold fast, to sit still," and so forth, I bent all my energies rather to guide them along, and avoid collisions, than to attempt to stop them; and, to add to our troubles, the patent drag gave way.
Luckily, the road was smooth, and free from all obstruction.
"To the left, sir—to the left," shouted Pitblado, as we came to a place where two roads branched off; "that is Drumhead. Our way lies due west."
Pitblado might as well have shouted to the wind; the infuriated brutes took their own way, and tore at an awful pace due north. Horses pasturing by the wayside trotted to the rear, and sheep browsing in the fields fled at our approach; cattle kicked up their heels, and scampered away in herds. House-dogs barked, terriers yelled, and pursued us open-mouthed; children, ducks, cocks, and hens fled from the village gutters; peasants, at their cottage doors, held up their hands, with shouts of fear, while broad fields and lines of leafless trees, turf dykes, and hedges, drains, and thatched dwellings seemed all to fly past with railway speed, or to be revolving in a circle round us.
A shriek of commiseration burst from my affrighted companion, when, just as we swept past the base of Drumcarra Craig, in the cold, bleak, and elevated district of Cameron, poor Willie Pitblado, who had risen to give me the assistance of his hands in bearing on the reins, or for the last time to try and let down the faulty drag, fell out behind, and vanished in a moment. And now before us spread Magus Muir, where the graves of Archbishop Sharpe's murderers lie in a field that has never been ploughed even unto this day.
Twilight had come on, and a brilliant aurora, forming great pillars of variegated light, that shot upward and downward from the horizon to the dome of heaven, filled all the northern quarter of the sky with singular but many masses of streamers. Thus, the brilliance of the atmosphere cast forward in strong and black outline the range of hills that bound the Howe of Fife, and terminate the valley through which the Ceres flows to join the Eden; and all this, I think, conduced to add to the terror of the horses.
Pitblado's fate greatly alarmed and concerned me, for he was a brave, handsome, and faithful fellow, and an old acquaintance; but I had another—a nearer, dearer—and more intense source of anxiety. If she who sat beside me, clinging to me, and embracing my left arm with all her energy—she whom I loved so deeply, and whom I had lured into the tandem, when she might have been safely in the drag or carriage, should lose her life that night, of what value would my future existence be, embittered with such a terrible reflection?
"If a linchpin comes loose, or a trace gives way," thought I, "all will be over with us both."
"Oh, Mr. Norcliff, Mr. Norcliff!" she exclaimed, while the tears, which she had no means of wiping away, streamed over her pale and beautiful face, and while her head half-reclined on my shoulder. "Heaven help us, this is terrible—most terrible! We shall certainly be killed!"
"Then I hope it shall betogether," I exclaimed. "Lady Loftus—dear Lady Loftus—dearest Louisa (here was a jump) trust to me, and me only! (what stuff men will talk; who else could she trust to?) and if it is in the power of humanity to save you, you shall be saved, or I shall die with you. Louisa, oh, Louisa, hear me. I would not—I could not survive you; but—but sit still, sit close, grasp me and hold on for Heaven's sake. (D—n that leader!) Oh, Louisa, I love you, love you dearly and devotedly. You must believe me when I say it at a time like this; when death, perhaps, is staring us face to face. Speak to me, dearest!"
I felt that the day, the hour, the moment of destiny had come; that time of joy or sorrow forever, and casting all upon it, committing the reins to my right hand, I threw my left arm round her, and pressing her to my breast, told her again and again how fondly I loved her, while still our mad steeds tore on.
"I know that you love me, Mr. Norcliff," she said, in a low and agitated voice, as her constitutional self-possession returned. "I have long seen it—felt it."
"My adorable Louisa!"
"And I will not—will not——"
She paused, painfully.
"What? Oh, speak."
"Deny that I love you in return."
"Heaven bless you, my darling, for saying so; for lifting a load of anxiety from my heart, and for making me so happy," I whispered, making an effectual effort to kiss her forehead.
"But then, Mr. Norcliff——"
"Alas! yes; but what?"
"There is mamma; you know, perhaps, her views concerning me—ambitious views; but we must take another time, if Heaven spares, to talk of that matter."
"What time so good as this?" I exclaimed impetuously, as we tore along, and Magus Muir, the Bishop's Wood, and Gullane's gravestone were left behind. "Poor me, a lieutenant of the lancers; and the earl, your father."
"Oh, dear papa—good, easy man—I don't think he troubles his head much in the affair; but if mamma knew all this, such a violation of her standing orders, heaven help us!"
She could almost have laughed but for the peril on which we were rushing, and a shrill little cry escaped her, as the leader suddenly quitted the hard highway, and, followed by the wheeler, passed throughan open field gate, and continued at the same frightful speed across a large space of pasture land that sloped steeply down to where my forebodings told me the Eden lay, and there, sure enough, in less than a minute, we could see the river rolling among the copsewood, with its waters swollen by the snows that had recently melted among the Lomond hills.
Though a placid stream usually, and having a pretty level course, in that quarter the banks were rugged, and the bed full of fallen larches and large boulder stones. If the vehicle overturned, what might be the fate of her who had just acknowledged that she loved me?
A prayer—almost a solemn invocation—rose to my lips, when, with the rapidity of light, the thought occurred to me of heading the leader towards a little stone bridge that spanned the stream. It was a mere narrow footway for shepherds, sheep, and cattle, and not of sufficient breadth to permit the passage of a four-wheeled gig; but I knew that if the latter could be successfully jammed between the walls, the course of the runaways would be arrested.
There was no alternative between attempting this and risking death from drowning or mutilation in the rugged bed of the swollen stream.
Down the steep grassy slope our foam-covered cattle rushed straight for the narrow bridge; I grasped the rail of the seat with one hand and arm; the other was round Louisa, lest the coming shock might throw us off. In an instant we felt it, and she clung to me, half-fainting, as there was a terrible crash, a ripping and splitting sound, as wood was smashed and harness rent. Our course was arrested—the wheels and axle of the fore-carriage wedged between the stone walls of the narrow bridge, the wheeler kicking furiously at the splinter-bar and splash-board, and the leader, the blood mare, the source of all the mischief, hanging over the parapet in the stream, snorting, half-swimming, and for ought I cared, wholly hanging.
My first thought was my companion. We both trembled in every limb as I lifted her gently to the ground, and placed the seat-cushions on a stone, where she might sit and compose herself till I considered what we should do next, and where we were.
She was greatly agitated, but passively permitted me to encircle her with my arms, to assure her that she was safe, to press her hands, and to wipe away her tears caressingly. I forgot all about poor Pitblado, "spilt" on the road, all about my uncle's best blood mare hanging in the traces, and all about the half-ruined gig.
In short, I felt only the most exquisite joy that I had gained, as it were, life and Louisa together. It was that moment of intense rapture, when, combined with the natural revulsion of feeling consequent to escape from a deadly peril, I enjoyed that emotion which a man feels once, and once only, in a lifetime, when the first woman he loves confesses to a mutual regard; and, half-kneeling, I stooped over her, kissing her again and again, assuring her—of I know not what.
From one of her fingers I transferred to mine a ring of small value—a pearl set in blue enamel, leaving in its place a rose diamond. It was a beautiful stone, of the purest water, which I had found when our troops sacked the great pagoda at Rangoon, and I had it set at Calcutta by a jeweller, who assured me that it was worth nine hundred rupees, or ninety pounds, and I only regretted now that it was not worth ten times as much, to be truly worthy of the slender finger on which I placed it.
She regarded me with a loving smile on her pale face, and in the quiet depths of her soft dark eyes, as she reclined in my arms. I gazed on her with emotions of the purest rapture. She was now humbled, gentle and loving—this brilliant beauty, this proud earl's daughter—mine, indeed—all that a man could dream of as perfection in a woman or as a wife; at least, I thought so then; and I was not a little proud of the idea of what our mess would say—the colonel, Studhome, Scriven, Wilford, Berkeley, and the rest—of a marriage that would certainly be creditable to the regiment, though we had titles and honourables enough in the lancers; and already, in fancy, I saw myself "tooling" into Maidstone barrack-square in a dashing phaeton, with a pair of cream-coloured ponies, with Norcliff and Loftus quartered on the panels, and silver harness, and Louisa by my side, in one of the most perfect of morning toilettes and of marriage bonnets that London millinery could produce.
Poor devil! with only two hundred per annum besides my pay, and the war before me, I was thus acquiring castles in Airshire, and estates in the Isle of Sky.
Oblivious of time, while the woods and hills of Dairsie were darkening against the sky, while the murmuring Eden flowed past towards the Tay, and the ever-changing spears and streamers of the northern aurora were growing brighter and more bright, I remained by the side of Louisa, wholly entranced, and only half-conscious that something should be done to enable us to return home; for night was coming on—the early night of the last days of January, when the sober sun must set at half-past four—and I knew not how far we were from Calderwood Glen.
Suddenly a shout startled us; the hoofs of horses were heard coming rapidly along the highway, and then three mounted men wheeled into the field and rode straight towards us. To my great satisfaction, one proved to be my faithful fellow, Willie Pitblado, who, not a wit the worse for his capsize on the road, had procured horses and assistance at the place called Drumhead, and tracked us to where we lay, wrecked by the old bridge of the Eden.
"Poor Willie," said Louisa, "I thought you were killed."
"No, my lady," said he, touching his hat; "it's lang or the de'il dees by the dykeside."
Of this answer she could make nothing.
The gig was now released and run back, and though scratched, splintered, and started in many places by the shock to which it had been subjected, it was still quite serviceable. The wheeler was traced to it again, the leader, her ardour completely cooled now, was fished out of the stream, and harnessed again, and in less than half an hour, so able had been the assistance rendered us, we were bowling along the highway towards my uncle's house.
An hour's rapid driving soon brought us in sight of the long avenue, the lighted windows, and quaint façade of the old mansion, at the door of which I drew up; and as I threw the whip and reins to Willie Pitblado, and, fearless now even of Mamma Chillingham, handed my companion down, tenderly and caressingly, I found myself an engaged man, and thefiancéof one of the fairest women in Britain—the brilliant Louisa Loftus!
CHAPTER XII.
It passed—and never marble looked more paleThan Lucy, while she listened to his tale.He marked her not; his eye was cold and clear,Fixed on a bed of withering roses there;He marked her not, for different thoughts possessedHis anxious mind, and laboured in his breast.ELLIS.
It passed—and never marble looked more paleThan Lucy, while she listened to his tale.He marked her not; his eye was cold and clear,Fixed on a bed of withering roses there;He marked her not, for different thoughts possessedHis anxious mind, and laboured in his breast.ELLIS.
It passed—and never marble looked more pale
Than Lucy, while she listened to his tale.
He marked her not; his eye was cold and clear,
Fixed on a bed of withering roses there;
He marked her not, for different thoughts possessed
His anxious mind, and laboured in his breast.
ELLIS.
ELLIS.
Notwithstanding all that had passed, and that we had been carried so far in the wrong direction, we were not long behind the rest of our party in reaching Calderwood, where the history of our disaster fully eclipsed for the evening all the exciting details of the fox-hunters, though many gentlemen in scarlet, with spattered tops and tights, whom Sir Nigel had brought, made the drawing-room look unusually gay.
Lady Louisa remained long in her own apartment; the time seemed an age to me; yet I was happy—supremely happy. I had a vague idea of the new emotions that served, perhaps, to detain her there; but an air of cold reserve and unmistakable displeasure hovered on the forehead of her haughty mother.
When Louisa joined us, she had perfectly recovered her usual equanimity and presence of mind—her calm, pale, and placid aspect. She was somewhat silent and reserved; this passed for her natural terror of the late accident, and though we remained some distance apart, her fine dark eyes sought mine, ever and anon, and were full of intelligent glances, that made my heart leap with joy.
Cora, who shrewdly suspected that there had been more in the affair than what Berkeley called "a doocid spill," regarded us with interest, and with a tearful earnestness that surprised us, after our return, and during the explanation which we were pleased to make. But whatever tales my face told, Louisa's was unfathomable, so from its expression suspicious little Cora could gather nothing; though, had she carried her scrutiny a little further, she might have detected my famous Rangoon diamond sparkling on the engaged finger of her friend's left hand.
Cora was on this night, to me, an enigma!
What had gone wrong with her? When she smiled, it seemed to several—to me especially—that the kind little heart from whence these smiles were wrung was sick. Why was this, and what or who was the source of her taciturnity and secret sorrow?—not Berkeley, surely—they had come home in the drag together—she could never love such an ass as Berkeley; and if the fellow dared to trifle with her—but I thrust the thought aside, and resolved to trust the affair to her friend and gossip, the Lady Loftus.
A few more days glided swiftly and joyously past at Calderwood Glen; we had no more riding and driving; but, as the weather was singularly open and balmy for the season, we actually had more than one picnic in the leafless woods, and I betook me to the study of botany and arboriculture with the ladies.
I enjoyed all the delicious charm of a successful first love! The last thought on going to repose; the first on waking in the morning; and the source of many a soft and happy dream between.
The peculiarity, or partial disparity, of our positions in life caused secrecy. Denied, by the presence of others, the pleasure of openly conversing of our love, at times we had recourse to furtive glances, or a secret and thrilling pressure of the hand or arm was all we could achieve.
Then there were sighs the deeper for suppression,And stolen glances sweeter for the theft;And burning blushes, though for no transgression,Tremblings when met, and restlessness when left.
Then there were sighs the deeper for suppression,And stolen glances sweeter for the theft;And burning blushes, though for no transgression,Tremblings when met, and restlessness when left.
Then there were sighs the deeper for suppression,
And stolen glances sweeter for the theft;
And stolen glances sweeter for the theft;
And burning blushes, though for no transgression,
Tremblings when met, and restlessness when left.
Tremblings when met, and restlessness when left.
Small and trivial though these may seem, they proved the sum of our existence, and even of mighty interest, lighting up the eye and causing the pulses of the heart to quicken.
We became full of petty and lover-like stratagems, and of enigmatical phrases, all the result of the difficulties that surrounded our intercourse when others were present—especially Lady Chillingham, who was by nature cold, haughty, and suspicious, with, I think, a natural born antipathy to subalterns of cavalry in particular. Cora saw through our little artifices, and Berkeley, that Anglo-Scotch snob of the nineteenth century, had ever his eyes remarkably wide open to all that was going on around him, and thus the perils of discovery and instant separation were great, while our happy love was in the flush.
This danger gave us a common sympathy, a united object, a delicious union of thought and impulse. Nor was romance wanting to add zest to the secrecy of our passion. Ah, were I to live a thousand years, never should I forget the days of happiness I spent in Calderwood Glen with Louisa Loftus.
Our interviews had all the mystery of a conspiracy, though, save Cora, none as yet suspected our love; and there was a part of the garden, between two old yew hedges—so old that they had seen the Calderwoods of past ages cooing and billing, in powdered wigs and coats of mail, with dames in Scottish farthingales and red-heeled shoes—where, at certain hours, by a tacit understanding, we were sure of meeting; but with all the appearance of chance, though occasionally for a time so brief, that we could but exchange a pressure of the hand, or snatch a caress, perhaps a kiss, and then separate in opposite directions.
Those were blessed and joyous interviews; memories to treasure and brood over with delight when alone. In the society of our friends, my heart throbbed wildly, when by a glance, a smile, a stolen touch of the hand, Louisa reminded me of what none else could perceive, the secret understanding that existed between us.
And yet all this happiness was clouded by a sense of its brevity, and by our fears for the future; the obstacles that rank and great fortune on her side, the lack of both on mine, raised between us; and then there was the certain prospect of a long and dangerous—alas! it might prove, a final separation.
"They who love," writes an anonymous author, "must ever drink deeply of the cup of trembling; but, at times, there will arise in their hearts a nameless terror, a sickening anxiety for the future, whose brightness all depends upon this one cherished treasure, which often proves a foreboding of some real anguish looming in the distant hours."
"Where is all this to end?" I asked of myself, as the conviction that something must be done forced itself upon me, for the happy days were passing, and my short leave of absence was drawing to a close.
One day, by the absence of some of our friends, and by the occupation of others, we found ourselves alone, and permitted to have a longer interview than usual, in our yew-hedge walk, and we were conversing of the future.
"I have two hundred a year besides my pay, Louisa." (She smiled sadly at this, and the smile went doubly to my heart.) "The money has been lodged for my troop with Cox and Co., and my good uncle means well concerning me; yet, I feel all these as being so small, that were I to address the Earl of Chillingham on the subject of our engagement, it would seem that I had little to offer, and little to urge, save that which is, perhaps, valueless in his aristocratic eyes——"
"And that is?"
"My love for you."
"Don't think of addressing him," said she, weeping on my shoulder; "he has already views for me in another quarter."
"Views, Louisa!"
"Yes; pardon me for paining you, dearest, by saying so; but it is nevertheless true."
"And these views?" I asked, impetuously.
"Are an offer made for my hand by Lord Slubber de Gullion."
My heart died within me on hearing this name, which, as I once before stated, comes as near the original as possible.
"Hence you see, dearest Newton," she resumed, in a mournful and sweetly-modulated voice, "were you to address my father, it would only rouse mamma, and have the effect of interrupting our correspondence for ever."
"Good heavens! what then are we to do?'
"Wait in hope."
"How long?"
"Alas! I know not; but for the present at least our engagement, like our meetings and our letters, if we can correspond, must be secret—secret all. Were the earl, my father, to know that I loved you, Newton (how sweetly those words sounded), he and mamma would urge on Lord Slubber's suit, and, on finding that I refused, there would be no bounds to mamma's wrath. You remember Cora's story of the 'Clenched Hand;' you remember the 'Bride of Lammermoor,' and must see what a determined mother and long domestic tyranny may do."
I clasped my hands, for my heart was wrung; but she regarded me kindly and lovingly.
"On your return home, as colonel of your regiment, perhaps, we shall then, at all hazards, bring the matter before him, and treat Slubber's offer with contempt, as the senile folly of an old man in his dotage. You, at least, shall propose for me in form——"
"And if Lord Chillingham refuse?"
"Though we English people can't make Scotch marriages now, I shall be yours, dearest Newton, as I am now, only that it shall be irrevocably and for ever."
A close and mute embrace followed, and then I left her in a paroxysm of grief, while my head whirled with the combined effects of love and joy, and of sorrow, not unmixed with anger.
"I wonder what the subjects are that lovers talk of in their tête-à-têtes," says my brother of the pen and sword, W. H. Maxwell, and the same surmise frequently occurred to myself, before I met or knew Louisa Loftus.
We never lacked a subject now. The peculiarities of our relative positions, our caution for the present, and our natural anxieties for the future, afforded us full topics for conversation or surmise; but the few remaining days of my leave "between returns" glided away at Calderwood Glen; the time for my departure drew nigh; already had Pitblado divided a sixpence with my lady's soubrette, and packed up all my superfluous traps, and within six and thirty hours Berkeley and I would have to report ourselves in uniform at head-quarters, or be returned absent without leave.
It was in the evening, when I had gone as usual to meet Louisa at the seat where the close-clipped yew hedges formed a pleasant screen, that, to my surprise, and by the merest chance, I found it occupied by my cousin Cora.
The January sunset was beautiful; the purple flush of evening covered all the western sky, and bathed in warm tints the slopes of the Lomond hills. The air was still, and we heard only the cawing of the venerable rooks that perched among the woods of the old manor, or swung to and fro on its many gilt vanes.
Cora was somewhat silent, and I, being thoroughly disappointed by finding her there in lieu of Louisa Loftus, was somewhat taciturn, if not almost sulky.
Somehow—but how, I know not—Cora led me to talk insensibly of our early days, and as we did so, I could perceive that she regarded me earnestly from time to time, after I simply remarked that ere long I should be far, far away from her, and among other scenes. Her dovelike, dark eye became suffused, and the tinge on her rounded cheek died away when I laughingly referred to the days when we had been little lovers, and when Fred Wilford and I—he was now a captain of ours—used to punch each other's heads in pure spite and jealousy about her; but this youthful jealousy once took a more dangerous turn.
Among the rocks in the glen an adder of vast size took up its residence, and had bitten several persons. It had been seen by some to leap more than seven yards high, and was a source of such terror to the whole parish, that my uncle, and even the provost of Dunfermline, had offered rewards for its destruction.
On this I boldly dared my boy-rival to face it; but Fred Wilford, who was on a visit to us from Rugby, had more prudence, or less love for little Cora, and so declined the attempt.
Flushed with boyish pride and recklessness, I climbed the steep face of the rock, stirred up the adder with a long stick, flung it to the ground, and killed it by repeated blows of an axe, a feat of which my uncle never grew tired of telling, and the reptile was now in the library, sealed up in a glass case, being deemed a family trophy, and, as Binns said, always kept in the best of spirits.
I sat with Cora's white and slender hand in mine, gazing at her soft and piquant features, her pouting lips and dimpled chin, and the dark hair so smoothly braided under her little hat, and over each pretty and delicate ear. Cora was very gentle and very charming; she had ever been to me a kind little playmate, a loving sister, and she sighed deeply when I spoke of my approaching departure.
"You go by sea?" she asked.
"If we go to Turkey—of course."
"Embarking at Southampton?"
"Embarking at Southampton—exactly, and sailing directly for the East, I suppose," said I, while leisurely lighting a cigar; "I shall soon learn all the details and probabilities at head-quarters; but the route may not come for two months yet, as red-tape goes."
"You will think of us sometimes, Newton, in those strange and dangerous lands? Of your poor uncle, who loves you so well, and—and of me?"
"Of course, and of Louisa Loftus. Don't you think her very handsome?"
"I think her lovely."
"My cigar annoys you?"
"Not at all, Newton."
"But it makes you turn your face away."
"You met often, I believe, before you came here?"
"Oh, very often. I used to see her at the cathedral every Sunday in Canterbury; at the balls at Rochester and Maidstone——"
"And in London?"
"Repeatedly! I saw her at her first presentation at Court, when the colonel presented me, on obtaining my lieutenancy, and returning from foreign service. She created quite a sensation!"
I spoke in such glowing terms of my admiration for Louisa Loftus, that some time elapsed before I detected the extreme pallor of Cora's cheek, and a peculiar quivering of her under lip.
"Good heavens, my dear girl, you are ill! It is this confounded cigar—one of a box that Willie got me in Dunfermline," I exclaimed, throwing it away. "Your hand is trembling, too."
"Is it? Oh, no! Stay! I am only a little faint," she murmured.
"Faint! Why the deuce should you be faint, Cora?"
"This bower of yew hedges is close; the atmosphere is still, or chill, or something," she said, in a low voice, while pressing a lovely little hand on her bosom; "and it seems to me that I felt a pang here."
"A pang, Cora?"
"Yes, I feel it sometimes."
"You, one of the best waltzers in the county! You have no affection of the heart, or any of that sort of thing?"
She smiled sadly, even bitterly, and rose, saying—
"Here comes Lady Louisa. Say nothing of this."
Her dark eyes were swimming; but not a tear fell from their long, black, silky lashes, that lent such softness to her sweet and feminine face. She abruptly withdrew her tremulous hands from mine, and just as Louisa approached, hurriedly left me.
What did all this emotion mean? What did it display or conceal? I was thoroughly bewildered.
A sudden light began to break upon me.
"What is this?" thought I. "Can Cora be in love with me herself? Oh, nonsense! she has known me from boyhood. The idea is absurd! Yet her manner——. This will never do. I must avoid her, and to-morrow I leave for England!"
Louisa sat beside me, and, save her, Cora and all the world were alike forgotten.